Beyond This Illusion
by lightsabove
Summary: Three years after faking his death, Sherlock gets a woman thrust into his custody. Her story is impossible, yet there is no other explanation to why she is here. Unknown to them, the TARDIS decided to have some fun and send Tabitha to a television universe. Sherlock/OC. Slight WHOLOCK. Relationship-focused story instead of the cases.
1. Hey, I Know You!

**This is a WHOLOCK story with a Sherlock/OC pairing. This is my second story on here! I have a lot of this already written out - I just wanted to start posting now to get some feedback. Please tell me what you think! I DID read a story with a similar plot on here (I can't remember the name - if it was you, let me know so I can credit you with the idea!) I decided to take my own spin on it, and add The Doctor. **

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**CHAPTER 1: Hey, I Know You!**

It was the first weekend in her new house. Tabitha had spent the week unpacking, along with the 50 hours of work she put in at her bookstore. She was grateful that her best friend and partner would take it over for the weekend. She didn't have much to start with, so the one bedroom, one bathroom house looked rather empty. She had a simple black couch, an end table, a lamp, and a TV on a small table in her living room. She slouched on the couch with a flute of red wine and her favorite TV show in her DVD player.

Tabitha decided that tonight was a Sherlock night, and had celebrated it by turning the lights down low to a cozy setting and putting on her most comfy pajamas – yellow flannel pants and a black tank top over a sports bra. Her late husband's silver wedding band, along with hers, was kept around her neck on a cheap silver chain. She sighed as she pressed play on the remote, and took a happy sip of her favorite wine. Thunder rolled outside her window, and a flash of lighting made her jump a bit. She heard the light patter of rain starting to fall on her ceiling. She smiled as the show started. The first episode was always one of her favorites!

"I know you're an army doctor and you've been invalided home from Iraq or Afghanistan. I know you've got a brother who's worried about you, but you won't go to him for help because you don't approve of him—possibly because he's an alcoholic, more likely because he recently walked out on his wife. And I know that your therapist thinks your limp's psychosomatic, quite correctly I'm afraid. That's enough to be going on with, don't you think? The name's Sherlock Holmes and the address is 221B Baker Street. Afternoon."

Tabitha decided it was the time to get something to chew on, so she paused the show right after that great little monologue from Sherlock Holmes. Her body jumped when a huge clap of thunder was heard right over her house, and lighting flashed in the darkened kitchen. She went straight to a cabinet and picked out some M&Ms, and took the package back to her seat on the couch. The lights, and the other electronics, suddenly went off. She made an irritated noise, and looked out the window when lighting flashed very close. She yelped when a thunder clap sounded, again.

"Candles," she murmured, heading into the kitchen by her hands touching the walls. She found the lighter next to her laptop on the counter, and felt around for the bag of candles she placed on the counter when she came home from work. "Ah ha!" she cried, finally finding what she wanted. She pulled out a citrus scented candle and lit it with the lighter. She pulled out a plate to put it on, and headed toward her bedroom. A knock sounded on her door.

"Good lord, it's 9pm and a major storm is raging outside!" Tabitha decided to ignore it, and walked down the short hallway. She was about to step into her bedroom when the knock sounded again, more insistent. "Damnit," she muttered, turning around and moving quickly to the open the door.

When she did, no one was there. Tabitha swallowed, and jumped with another round of lightning and thunder exploded. She slowly stepped onto the small porch, the rain heavy and splashing on the steps in front of her. She heard a rustle to the right, and turned. Pain bloomed at the left side of her head, and the last thing she saw was her candle going out.

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He had no idea what was going on! He grabbed ahold of the one of the handles on the console, and held tight as the room spun around and around. He let out a loud, long yell as he felt his box being pulled down by gravity to Earth. Sparks flew out of the console, and he ducked as a piece that had blown off flew straight at his head. He sagged in relief as it missed him by a few inches – he'd have to get that fixed as soon as he figured out why the TARDIS was acting this way. He grunted as he pulled himself, the room still spinning and sparks flying. He moved to get comfy in a little corner that would keep him alive when he crashed landed. Unfortunately, he still was knocked unconscious when his head banged against the metal box that was surrounding him.

The Doctor groaned a bit as his eyes opened slowly. He moaned in annoyance as he took in the damage of the TARDIS. There was debris everywhere, and sparks were shooting out every few moments from across the room. The door was wide open, and he could see a lawn of grass and the outline of a simple white house as he stood up. There was lightenging and thunder, and rain was pouring down. He quickly pushed a few buttons on the console, ducking a few times to miss being hit with sparks, and then headed toward the door. As soon as he was out and the door closed, the TARDIS would start to repair itself. He glanced back at the metallic interior, a bit saddened that it would change again, than shut the door with a sigh.

He adjusted his bowtie, and ran a hand through his hair. Clara would have made fun of him for all of this, especially with his hair being so out of place. He missed her, his Clara. After the crazy time at Trenzalore, she had said that she was going back to her life for a while. She wanted to write a book, she said. They would meet again in six weeks. She had made him promise to not go forward in time. There he was, trying to find something to entertain himself with, and the TARDIS had suddenly pulled him toward a certain spot on Earth. He didn't want to go there, so he had tried to change course.

His TARDIS was a very stubborn box! She had refused, and shut everything off, causing the box to fall into the Earth's gravity towards where she wanted to go. Now that they were here, the Doctor looked around, expecting a Cyberman to pop out, or one of the Silence to appear. Nothing! Just a lot of loud rumbling thunder and rain. Lots of rain.

"Why are we here?" He mumbled to himself. He looked back at the closed door of the TARDIS, and was a bit relieved that he could hear her humming, starting to repair herself. He turned back to the house, dusted off his clothing that was actually in rather good shape considering what had just happened. He slowly approached the house, seeing the lights all off. He was getting wet, but he'd just knock on the door to make sure

He saw movement, and took a chance to knock on the door. No one answered. He knocked on the door again, shivering in the cold. Suddenly, a burst of energy pushed him into the bushes. The door swung open and a woman looked out, confused. He moved to let her know that he was here, but then another burst of energy zapped around them and suddenly she disappeared. The Doctor's eyes widened, and he jumped out.

"Energy! What was that energy?"

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"Miss, are you alright? She's waking up!" a woman with a British accent said. Tabitha groaned, and raised a hand to her head. It was pounding, and she felt like she was going to be sick. Her vision was blurring, but she saw a few faces close to hers. She blinked a few times, and noticed that they were paramedics. She grunted and sat up. The paramedics softly pushed her back, saying they needed to check her first. While they searched her body for any issues, she looked around. She was at the end of an alley way in the pajamas she had on last night. The sun was up, but the clouds were heavy. At least it wasn't raining, she thought bitterly.

"Looks like you were walloped on the side of the head, love," the older gentleman murmured, using his gloved hands to turn her head gently to get a good look at the side. She felt blood running down her cheek. They cleaned it up, and Tabitha winced every minute they touched it. She had a bruise on her face, she just knew it.

"I answered my door, and no one was there. I felt pain, and then I woke up here," she softly said, not wanting to make her head pound any worse. The paramedics frowned.

"We may need to get the police for this one, sounds like she was assaulted and taken from her flat," the one that had looked at her head a few moments ago. "What's your name?"

"Tabitha. Tabitha Hunter." Tabitha licked her dried lips, and looked around at the people at the entrance of the alleyway. She heard them jumbling with an English accent, and was very confused. There wasn't anyone in her town that was British, she was sure of it! This just means they were right – she _was_ kidnapped and left for dead here. But why? She tried to put herself up, but she didn't have the strength in her arms.

"Hm, an American," he answered with a reassuring smile. "We are going to take you to hospital, Tabitha. You are dehydrated, most likely have a concussion, and we're going to check out other things, just to make sure, alright?"

"Sounds great to me," she answered, her throat dry. She could use some water. They loaded her up into the ambulance, and Tabitha realized it wasn't the usual American ambulance. Where the hell was she? She gaped out the back window when she realized they were going down the wrong side of the street. They'd dragged her off to what seemed like England!

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After a while of being poked and prodded, they begun to ask her questions about where she was from. She answered the best she could – Kearney, Nebraska in America, a book store owner who had a degree in Library Science, no, she wasn't visiting here, full name of Tabitha Renee Hunter, late husband was T.J. Hunter who died two years ago serving in Iraq, twenty-seven years old. Tabitha wondered when the police would get here. The nurses that were chatting and taking her vitals seemed happy enough with her answers. It was unlikely she had amnesia.

She sighed and laid back on the rather soft hospital bed. It was white everywhere. The TV on the wall in the corner was silent. The sun was trying to creep from behind the clouds, and Tabitha was grateful the window curtains were open. She'd never been out of the country, and wanted to see the view from 6 stories up.

"Miss Hunter, hello," she heard, and turned her eyes to the door. Her mouth gaped open, and her eyes widened. She must have stared for a moment, because the man looked at her concerned. "Are you alright?"

"You're… um, you're…" Tabitha didn't know what to say. Martin Freeman? It couldn't be – he was in a doctor's outfit. No way.

"Ah. Recognize me? My exploits with Sherlock seems to be on everyone's mind these day," he murmured. He flipped through her chart as she tried to find her voice. Sherlock? Sherlock Holmes? "Yes, I am in fact Sherlock Holmes colleague, Dr. John Waston. When I'm not here, of course," he answered, sending her a smile than going back to the clipboard in his hand.

"What?" she asked. "I didn't say…"

"Yes, out loud, you did," he answered with a chuckle. Tabitha sighed, and looked sheepish.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"

"Right," he answered, smiling. "Let's take a look at your bruises…"

Tabitha let Dr. Watson look her over, and he hummed a bit before taking his gentle hands away from his face. He wrote a few notes as he begun to speak.

"The police will be here in a moment," he commented, than looked at her. His face changed from professional to personal concern. "Are you alright? I heard your story. Assaulted in your home. No idea who it was?" He held the clipboard to his side.

"None. I didn't see anything. It was dark, stormy, and there was a knock, but my porch light didn't pick up even an odd shadow," Tabitha answered with a sigh. "How did I end up here? I'm in another country, right?"

"This is London. What day was it when you were… when it happened?"

"June 1st," she answered. He hummed and looked at her oddly. "What?" she asked.

"It's September 4th," he said softly. His eyes took on that concerned look again. He took out a tiny penlight and started to shine it in her eyes. She'd had it done already today, and she didn't like it. She sighed, a bit irritated, but let him do it. "What year is it?"

"Two thousand and thirteen," she answered matter-of-factly. He immediately stepped back from her and looked down. His eyes were even more concerned now. Tabitha groaned. "What year is it _here_?"

"Twenty Fourteen," he answered, again softly.

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	2. Good Lord, The Purple Shirt

_**Might as well post a little more. Thanks for the views, follows and the reviews! I hope you like the story!**_

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**CHAPTER 2 - Good Lord, The Purple Shirt**

Tabitha's mouth popped open for the second time in the last few minutes. A year and three months? That wasn't possible. As a matter-of-fact, this man wasn't possible. John Watson was a fictional character, played by Martin Freeman in her favorite show. He was also played by Jude Law in the movies! Maybe this was a dream, but all the pinching and prodding from before had hurt. She had never been hurt in her dreams.

"The last thing I remember was laying on my couch, watching Sherlock, and the storm made my power go out. I answered the door and then I was here! How can that happen in a year and three months? You aren't real, John Watson!" Tabitha felt herself slowly slipping into a panic attack. The room seemed to get small, and she started to take deep breaths. She couldn't seem to breathe in enough.

"Watching Sherlock -? Tabitha, breathe, slowly!" John put his hands on her cheeks and looked her in the eyes. "Breathe… slowly…" She followed his lead as he took a few slow and steady breaths. It took a moment, and she didn't notice the two detectives that came to stand in the doorway. Another figure was behind them, but she couldn't make him out. He seemed to be watching from behind the door frame.

"Watching Sherlock," she heard him mumble when she was back to breathing normally. She swallowed, and took the glass on the table next to her. She gulped down the glass of water, sighing and wiping her mouth when she was finished. Tabitha looked at the detectives and groaned. It had to be a dream. It had to be. Might as well go with it.

"Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade," she stated with a smug grin on her face. Her favorite characters from her favorite show were all standing in her hospital room. Tabitha turned her attention to the woman next to him, as the man looked surprised that she knew him. "Sally Donovan, a judgmental, bitchy woman who doesn't know when to lay off." She crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head slowly in an over-the-top disappointed way.

"How dare you!" the woman growled, stepping forward. There was a chuckle behind them, and John seemed to be keeping in a laugh himself. Lestrade put his arm out to stop her, and Donovan stepped back onto place with a glare in her eyes. "I've dealt with Freak all day, I don't need this."

"The patient is having … memory problems, Detective Donovan. She has a head injury," Dr. Watson explained with a smile on his face. He winked at Tabitha and then nodded toward the figure behind the two detectives. Tabitha knew who it was, but didn't dear to look. She wondered what outfit he was going to be wearing – the purple shirt, or the black shirt, or the…

"Ah, I see. We checked out your name, since you don't have any identification on you, and we didn't come up with anything," Lestrade said, getting to the point. He put his hands in his pockets. Donovan sent a look with raised eyebrows, as if to say 'now what, bitch?' to Tabitha. Lestrade continued while the doctor and the other person kept quiet. "We also checked you under facial recognition, and you aren't in our database, or the American database."

"What?" Tabitha asked. This was a weird non-dream. It was like she didn't exist.

"You don't exist. At all," the deep melodic voice answered, stepping into the room around the detectives. Tabitha swallowed and stared at his face. His eyes were sharp, studying her intently, and his hands were in the pocket of his long black coat. Tabitha couldn't remember the exact name of it. The signature scarf was around his neck, and today he was wearing the purple shirt. _Good lord, the purple shirt._

"You should try a green scarf, mix it up a bit," she commented with a tilt of her head, looking at the hollow of his neck. She was getting aroused, and he'd only said five words. She looked back at his eyes, and his face turned into boredom. She shrugged. "It would match your eyes. A bit. Maybe." Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

"Anyway," John said, getting everyone's attention. He sat the clipboard by her feet on the bed. "What do you mean she isn't there? She has to be… right?"

"Unless she knows people who can wipe her face off the Earth," Sherlock stated in a calm and rational voice.

"Honestly, I don't! I'm a librarian!" she spread her arms out. "Do I look like I'm the type to go on the run?" She raised an eyebrow as they studied her.

"No."

"Yes."

Sherlock said the first one, Donovan said the second one, and they said it at the same time. They looked at each other, and Sherlock rolled his eyes at her. He gestured toward the patient in the bed with a smirk.

"Look, really look!" he said with a bit of intensity. Tabitha grinned.

"You're going to deduce me, aren't you?" she couldn't help but smile. It was her favorite part about Sherlock. His amazing deduction skills. He looked at her, almost like he was judging her face when she said that. She kept grinning at him. "You won't believe me if I told you the truth. Go ahead, do it."

"The truth?" Lestrade asked, but everyone ignored him as Sherlock took a second to study her and then started on his famous quick-paced comments.

"Late twenties, widow from the rings on the chain around her neck, American, Midwest by her accent, no major family considering she isn't asking to see them, educated with a degree in library science and a degree in business administration, not a very social woman, but doesn't mind to be around people if they don't show her too much annoying attention, she was knocked unconscious by an invisible assailant, taken from her home right before bed time, and loves M&Ms."

Everyone was silent, until Tabitha spoke up.

"Amazing. Amazing! Why can't you guys appreciate him more than you do?" she chuckled, speaking to the detectives with that last part.

"That still doesn't tell us why she isn't in any database in the world," Sherlock continued, a smirk on his face. Tabitha hoped that he didn't find her too dull or annoying at the moment. He tilted his head as he studied her some more. "Possibly her kidnappers didn't want her to be found."

"Have you, you know…" Tabitha made a motion that meant 'explosion' with her hands. Sherlock looked at her a bit confused, as did everyone else. "You know. Splat!" she said, using her hands again. Everyone made a murmur about finally getting it, and Dr. Watson chuckled.

"Yes. It's been three years," he answered. "But, back to you, alright? You need to stay here for another night just so I can make sure you aren't…"

"Hallucinating? Speaking to my imaginary friends? Fantasizing about Sherlock?" Tabitha quipped. Everyone whipped their head to her face when she said the last one. Donovan rolled her eyes and gave Sherlock a dirty look. She just grinned and smiled at them. This was fun! She usually wasn't this forthright, but it was her dream, right? She could do what she wanted. Sherlock choose to ignore her comment.

"Yes…" Watson answered slowly. He turned to their company. "Alright, scatter you lot, figure it out." He looked pointedly at Sherlock.

"I'll stay here. If the kidnappers erased her from existence, she means something to them. Don't want to be kidnapped again, do we?" he said with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. The detectives grumbled, saying they would come by the next day with any news they might find. They asked for the clothing she had been found in, and John gave him a paper bag. Tabitha sat quietly as they left. Sherlock shut the door, and sat down in the chair on the other side of where John was standing. He lifted his hands in a prayer-like fashion, his fingers touching his lips.

"Yes, Sherlock?" she asked. She'd seen the show too many times not to realize when he wanted to make a comment.

"You're hiding something." She raised an eyebrow, and sighed. Tilting her head back, she looked at the ceiling as she tried to tell them what really happened. After a few long moments, John's beeper went off. "You act like we've met."

"I need to get that. Alright here?" he asked her.

"Of course. I've got him," she answered, motioning her head toward the staring Sherlock. John just nodded with an incredulously look and left, closing the door back behind him. Tabitha turned back to her last visitor. "You won't believe me if I tell you. You'll probably send me to the looney bin."

"I can figure it out," he tried to threaten. She laughed, and he furrowed his brows.

"Really, you can't, you think it'll be quiet impossible," she told him knowingly. He waited, just staring. She wasn't sure what was going on in his lovely mind, but Tabitha couldn't handle him just staring at her, waiting. "Fine! I'll tell you. Don't interrupt until I say I'm finished." He nodded his consent, and leaned back.

"It was June 1st, 2013, when I was hit with something at my front door. There was a knock, around nine at night, and I ignored it. The knock happened again, but more urgent. I had a candle – it was storming and the power went out. I opened the door, no one was there. The bushes rustled, so I turned to the… right. And then I was hit. Bam. Then I wake up in the alley with paramedics huddling over me."

Sherlock opened his mouth, but Tabitha beat him to it.

"Hey, I didn't say I was done!" He leaned back again, concentrating more on her story. She knew he was watching her reactions and body movements, as well. She wasn't going to lie – her story was too crazy not to be true. This was a dream, right? "The strange thing was what I was doing before the power went out." Sherlock looked a bit more drawn in. Tabitha paused for a moment, trying to figure out how to say it. She sighed. "I was watching a TV show, from the BBC. The actors are Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman." Sherlock looked bored, rolled his eyes, and made to stand up. "It's called Sherlock."

He stopped and sat back down.

"I'm done."

"A television show named... Sherlock," he repeated. Tabitha nodded. "Never heard of it." He squinted his eyes at her.

"I know. Either this is a dream, or I got sucked into the show. I bet if you check out information on your phone, it won't exist." Sherlock started to chuckle, and then pushed himself up.

"Of course, you got sucked into a television about me. Why didn't I see that?" he asked sarcastically, turning toward the door. Tabitha started to panic – of course he didn't believe her. She frantically thought about the show, something that only Sherlock would know had happened, and the viewers.

"You saved Irene from getting her head chopped off!" she whispered loudly. He stopped at the door, and turned around slowly. "The last words you said before that were 'When I say run, run,'" Tabitha quoted. "It was a scene on the television show. I assume no one knows, unless you confessed to saving The Woman to people after you came back from the dead."

Tabitha felt herself holding her breath as he stared down at her, in front of the closed door. He slowly took out his phone, and looked down, typing something. After a few moments, he furrowed his brows. He looked back up to her.

"There are no such people as this… Cumberbatch and Freeman," he said slowly. "No such thing as this 'show' you were watching."

"How else would I know about your Irene Adler secret?" Tabitha answered with a smile. "I like her. She was smart, rather attractive, and definitely _not boring_ at all. Too bad she was a lesbian, you would make pretty babies. Or, maybe not, she'd chew you up and spit you out." Tabitha laughed.

"I won," Sherlock said, pointedly, in that low voice of his. He leaned back against the door, not entirely convinced, but convinced enough that something was going on to stay.

"You still came to her rescue."

"You were watching."

"Really? Do I look smarter than you and Mycroft?" she asked.

"Definitely not smarter, but you have above average intelligence. How do you know my brother?"

"No, I just live in another dimension of sorts," Tabitha answered. "Like I said, from the TV show. He's not as scary as he likes himself to think, is he? The actor who plays him is gay – is Mycroft gay?" Sherlock chuckled a bit at that, but didn't answer.

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	3. Attraction & Tennis

_**Thanks for the followers and the reviews! I really really really really (etc) appreciate it. It makes me want to write more!**_

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**CHAPTER 3 - Attraction & Tennis**

Dimension wasn't the right word, was it? More of a 'world' or 'universe', maybe. She wondered if T.J. was still out there, only... with someone else. She felt her chest begun to get tight with sadness. It's been two years since his death, and she had moved on for the most part, but thinking of them never having their relationship was really sad to her.

"You're thinking about your dead husband," Sherlock commented softly. He took the seat again. "Wondering if he is here, in this… universe, out there with someone else, never having known you."

"You believe me?" she asked, her eyes wide with surprise. He waved his hand in disagreement.

"Of course not," he answered gruffly, a little too defensive for her to think he was completely honest. "I just know the look on your face. I saw it when John, Mrs. Hudson even, was standing over my grave over three years ago."

"Right. So I guess I'll be staying with you?" she asked hopefully. He blinked at her and gave her a confused look. "I can't just be let out into the world – if people knew I talked about universes and being sucked into television shows they'd haul my ass to the next mental institution. Lestrade isn't going to let me go without putting me into police custody of sorts. Why not with you, and you can figure me out? Maybe I am having a weird amnesia thing. It's possible, I suppose. You can help me remember, if the whole world I had wasn't real."

Which would be very sad. She had done some awesome stuff in her 27 years. She'd also done some rather dangerous stuff, but that's what you do when you're 19 and on your own, right? Meeting T.J. was the best thing that happened to her – his death had taken a toll on her. After a year of grieving and seeing a therapist, she found a letter he had sent her the day before he died. Like he knew he was going to be killed in action. She read the note with her therapist, and it had opened her mind and heart. He had left her with beautiful words, saying that she couldn't waste all the intelligence and beauty being cooped up in their apartment. After that, she had finally started to make her way to buying the house she had now and taking over the book store from old Mr. Dalton.

"How long do you plan to be in this 'universe', as you call it?" Sherlock asked. Tabitha knew he didn't believe, but he was also curious about the truth about her. It was easy to read a character who you have watched a hundred times.

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "Maybe a good whack on my head will send me back." He raised an eyebrow at that.

"No, don't even think about it," John said as he came into the room. They turned to him. "No whacking. You already have quite a concussion."

"Maybe in a few weeks, then you can try," Tabitha said, winking at Sherlock.

"Visiting hours are over, Sherlock, you need to go." John kept his eye on the chart in his hands as Sherlock stood up and walked out. He quickly ducked his head back into the room.

"I'll arrange it so you can stay with us." He left, and John looked up and around the room.

"What does he mean, stay with us?"

"I have nowhere else to go. I need clothes," Tabitha sighed. John mumbled under his breath as he checked up on her vital signs and such. It didn't take long for Tabitha to relax and sleep a little.

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The Doctor searched her home, finding out a few things about where he was. The lights turned back on – the storm must have knocked them out. Kearney, Nebraska, in America – that was odd, he rarely ever had been called to America! She lived alone, he noticed. He saw the small shrine to her late husband – a soldier who was killed in action. He suddenly felt a bit of sadness for the woman who disappeared. He could certainly relate to losing the one person who meant more to you than anything else.

He made his way through the small house, seeing that she had enough food to cook for herself, but it was easy to cook things. It was clean, with a few things thrown here or there. There was a lot of chocolate – she must have a sweet tooth! M&Ms were on the table, so he helped himself to a handful. He threw himself on the couch, and slouched, although he never seemed to relax. His foot was taping, his unknowingly tugged at his hair, and is hands trembled with the need to be doing _something_.

He saw the Wii console tucked into a small shelf next to the television, and grinned. He'd play a little bit of tennis!

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She knew about him. She knew about everything, even things that no one else was supposed to know. How could that be? Sherlock was frustrated. Of course her story about being in a 'television programme' was not real. It was impossible. What was possible, though, was that someone had put a life in her mind that wasn't real. He wasn't sure who it was – Moriarty and all his henchmen were gone or locked up. The idea of a new opponent was rather nice, though. So many dull cases, too much time to be bored.

When she spoke, all the signs pointed to her telling the truth, or rather, what she perceived as the truth. Her universe, as she called it, was the same, only he, and his life, were fiction. A story, than a television show. Why would his life be a television show? Too much attention, no need to do that. If he got one more useless gift for being brilliant, he was going grab the gun and shot the next wall he came to.

Tabitha Hunter was very interesting, at least. She was a mystery, and having her around would take his mind off the dull cases he was receiving. Her smiling face when she had complimented his deduction had caught his attention. Her mention of more appreciation had almost had him smiling. Even John hadn't said anything to that extent. Tabitha was attractive, in a curvy fairy-like way. Sherlock glared at the wall at the thought of John flirting with her. He'd have to watch that – it would only complicate things.

Mycroft would surely be coming around as soon as he could to chat with the woman. From what he knew of her, she'd even take the money to spy on him. It made him chuckle a bit to think that she'd be the only person who had taken the money to spy on him. Tabitha was obviously attracted to him in a sexual manner from the way she stared at him when he entered, but she didn't use that to her advantage. He didn't need that distraction. Sherlock only acted on those impulses when it became too much of a distraction to ignore. It wasn't often at all. He did find her attractive, though.

That thought made him jump up.

"Mrs. Hudson!" It took her a moment to hear him, and she came down the stairs leisurely.

"Sherlock, do stop yelling, it hurts my head," she mumbled, coming to the door. She looked up at him expectantly as he moved to his small desk and begun to look through some papers.

"We will be having a house guest. I am not sure how long," he stated.

"Oh?" Mrs. Hudson asked silently who it was as she came into the room, mumbling about how messy it was after she just cleaned it yesterday. Sherlock let a small smile slide over his mouth as she muttered about not being their housekeeper and if they were having a guest it needed to be tidy.

"She is under our custody at moment."

"She?" Mrs. Hudson asked, suddenly turning toward her tenant. "Does she have something to do with the police?" she asked wearily.

"Yes. She has amnesia. We are trying to figure out where she comes from, and why she's here," he answered, taking a moment to look up at the motherly figure in his flat. He sent her a smile and went back to work.

"Oh. Poor girl. I'll make you some tea, and then I'll tidy up the place for our new house guest."

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When she woke up early the next morning, she wasn't too surprised to see the one called Mycroft Holmes sitting in one of the chairs. Of course he'd come see her – something had tipped him off that Sherlock had arranged to look after her until they got to the bottom of her identity and weird illusion that was real but they didn't believe it. She stretched, and made sure her gown wasn't showing off too much skin.

"Morning, Mycroft," she sighed, stretching her legs a bit more in the bed. He seemed surprised that she knew who he was. She glanced at him, and then back to the ceiling. "Have you heard the real story, or what the police gave you?"

"You think you're in a television show, with my brother as the star," he stated confidently.

"You're good. Are you gay?" She had to ask. He ignored her.

"You know a lot about Sherlock. Along with John, Greg, and even Miss Adler. Who are you?" He seemed quite relaxed, and Tabitha pushed the button to make her set up in the bed. She looked at him.

"Everything I said about the television show is true. If it's not, I don't know any other way. Honestly. Maybe it's a good enough whack that the memories of my life is just a dream. Maybe this is my real life. I don't remember any of it though. It's a television show me."

"You are not lying, are you?"

"I have no reason to lie. I'm an honest person. I've done nothing wrong. I'll even take the money you'll give me to watch over Sherlock, feed you information," she said with a smile. He blinked at that. "As long as I can have my own bank card and cell phone. I need clothes. The police took mine." She looked down and grabbed at her gown. Mycroft hummed, and then stood up.

"I assume you have no identification."

"Nope," she answered, looking up at the man. Tabitha wanted to explore the city – she'd always wanted to go to London. Might as well take advantage of the opportunity while she could. Mycroft would give her identification easily, if she proved her worth. She wouldn't give him information that could hurt Sherlock – she respected him too much.

"You'll have what you need in five hours," he murmured. He seemed to slink out the door unnoticed. Tabitha raised an eyebrow. He was definitely not as scary as the show made him out to be. He really did care for Sherlock, cause of what was suspected of his past. It was never said on the show outright. Maybe she'd ask about it, hm?

Tabitha went to the bathroom, walked around her room for a little bit, got the package with her new phone and a bank card with $5,000 in the account, then finally the nurse came by, along with Lestrade and Sherlock. She grinned at Tabitha as she checked her head injuries and vitals one last time. Tabitha was giddy. She wanted to get out of here, to walk. She felt like she'd been lazy way too long. The library! She had to see the library. It had to be pretty epic.

"You are officially free to go," the nurse said with a smile. She winked at Tabitha, and then left. Lestrade handed her a bag as Sherlock sent her that small smirk of his. Must mean he tolerated her. Good enough.

"These should fit you for the time being. We'll wait outside for you to change." They left the room. She slipped out the clothing – a green tank top, black skinny jeans, and low-heeled black boots that went up to her knees. They had even brought a bra and underwear! Tabitha snorted at the thought of Lestrade having to pick them out. She still had a pony-tail in her strawberry blonde hair, so she redid that so she didn't look so disheveled. She blinked at herself in the mirror.

"Sherlock. John. Greg. Mycroft. Mrs. Hudson. I should ask her first name, hm?" she told herself. Tabitha coughed when she realized she was talking to her reflection. If she was crazy, this was the start, wasn't it? She had to be careful not to do that again. She turned and walked out the door with her little wallet that Mycroft had gotten her. Sherlock glanced at it, but didn't say a word. John was just coming out of a room when they past.

"She is in your custody for the time being. If we find anything negative, she immediately comes into my custody," Lestrade stated as they walked down the hallway. Tabitha had to walk a little faster to keep up with even John.

"Hey, I'm 5'2, my legs aren't that long, guys. Slow down a bit!" she mumbled, John looked back at her and gave her an apologetic look. They all slowed down, although Sherlock seemed to be a bit annoyed that he did.

"Of course," Sherlock answered, staring straight ahead. Suddenly, he turned around and looked at the three while walking backwards "Oh, first we need to go see Molly. She said my results were ready to look at." He turned back to walk forward. Tabitha didn't want to see Molly, but not because she didn't like her, but because she wanted to see the city. Not a morgue with dead bodies. She didn't want to see dead bodies.

Leave that to the professionals she'd be living with.

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	4. Dancing On The Table

_**Thanks for the positive reviews! 3 I appreciate all your follows and favorites!**_

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**CHAPTER 4 - Dancing On The Table**

Sherlock hailed a cab, and had a few more firm reminders that I was to be kept an eye on at all times, and to be reported of any suspicious behaviors. Sherlock ignored the detective, Tabitha waved him off, and John reassured him everything will be fine. Before Sherlock could jump into the car, Tabitha pushed past him and slide all the way over. Sherlock blinked at her, but didn't say anything. He slide beside her, and John huffed as got in the passenger side in front.

"This is so beautiful," Tabitha breathed, looking out the window as they took off. Sherlock gave the cabbie the place to take them, than looked down at the wallet in Tabitha's hand. She ignored him and leaned in close to the window. She took in the sights and sounds of the city – she missed the city! Living in a small town for several years does that to a city girl. Tabitha really wanted to find that library. The library was the only place she felt safe and happy.

"Hm, all those people living out their boring lives," Sherlock muttered. "I see you got a visit from Mycroft already."

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The wallet was expensive, but a simple brown leather one that folded and fit in her pocket. By the way it looked, it held only a few things – a couple cards. Mycroft probably fixed her up with identification and a bank card. He liked the way the green shirt fit her skin and eyes. Her face seemed to be light up as she looked outside into the streets of London. He really didn't understand why she was so excited.

"Stop!" Tabitha suddenly yelled. The cab pulled up to a curb, and she opened the door. She jumped out and started jogging across the street, looking both ways as she ran.

"Go after her, Sherlock, I'll head home," John sighed as he rubbed his forehead. Sherlock huffed and got out, shutting the door behind him. The taxi took off toward their shared flat, and Sherlock went the way Tabitha did. He crossed the street, but lost sight of her. He went through the list of things he'd learned about her, and was just about to head off, but a hand grabbed his arm, and he turned abruptly.

"The library, Sherlock, it's… it's… wonderful!" She moved her hand down to grab his gloved hand and she pulled at him. She held onto his hand tightly as she pulled him through the crowded sidewalks toward the big building.

"It's just a building holding books," he said as they came to a stop at the stairs leading to the entrance. She huffed a bit from the jogging, but he was just fine. She wasn't used to running, it seemed. She may not be of use when going to crime scenes, he noted.

"Just a building with books!" she turned to him with a gasp. "Sherlock, a library is filled with other worlds, new information, old information, fantasy, science fiction, historical fiction, romance, the future, the past…" She sighed happily. "It's the only place I feel…. Normal. You know, relaxed and at peace. Surrounded by books."

He took a moment to think about that. Sherlock supposed he could relate – he felt mostly at ease and at peace when he was working on an experiment, or on a case. She smiled up at him innocently, and he sighed.

"We'll go inside, then," he said quietly, walking past her and up the stairs. She followed and they went inside. It was an older building, but Tabitha didn't mind that. The books were from all over the course of history. Sherlock watched her study bookshelf after bookshelf. They were in there for about 20 minutes when his phone beeped.

**Where are you? JW**

**At the library SH**

**That's where she ran off. JW**

**I thought you were coming to the morgue? Mx**

**I'll be there in a few moments. SH**

**Tabitha and I are going to the morgue, and then we'll be home. SH**

Sherlock put his phone back in his pocket. Tabitha came up to him with an armload of books. He quickly deduced it was a wide variety: three contemporary romances, one biography (Cleopatra), two mystery thrillers and three books of poetry. He raised an eyebrow at the load in her arms. A few began to tumble down, but he caught them quickly. She looked at him sheepishly.

"Might as well have something to do while you guys are busy, right?"

"You... you don't want to go with us?" John always wanted to go. She seemed to like his job – why wouldn't she want to go? She had seemed eager to run around the area for the library. What did she want now?

"Oh, god no. With you, I'll probably get shot or targeted by a psychotic criminal consultant!" she laughed. She made her way to the counter and asked how much it would be for a card, and if they took bank cards. Sherlock placed the books that were in his hands on the counter and stepped back as she got the card. She most likely just loved books in general. They were her 'mind palace' in a way, except with much more useless information.

"Thanks for waiting! Let's go to the apart – flat!" she called, carrying the cloth bag of books out with her.

"We have to go to morgue," Sherlock stated, hailing another cab. "You're paying for this next one," he commented with a smirk. She shrugged with a smile and followed him into the cab. Tabitha seemed nervous all of a sudden, bouncing her leg and tapping her finger nails on the edge of the door. He checked for other signs – was she watching for someone, were her eyes on something outside? No, it was just nerves. Being around dead bodies? Most likely.

"Do you like Molly?" she suddenly asked. She kept her eyes out the window.

"Yes. She is one of my friends," he answered automatically.

"I mean, do you find her attractive, mentally and physically?" Tabitha asked. She could see St. Bart's down the street. Sherlock looked back at her, just realizing what she meant. He thought about it.

"Well, she is very intelligent, but physically she does not arouse me," Sherlock answered. He knew of her crush on him – it had been evident for a long time. When he was in hiding, they had spoken about those issues, and as much as it hurt him to reject her, she had taken it rather well. Their relationship was very good at the moment, even though Sherlock could tell that Molly would watch him longingly when she thought he wasn't looking.

"Ah," Tabitha said with a nod. The cabbie pulled up in front, and Tabitha paid quickly. Sherlock had already gotten out of the car and headed toward the door. He stopped just as he was about to go in to see her walking quickly to catch up with him, holding her bag of books over her shoulder. She grinned up at him and pushed some stray strands out of her face. Sherlock smirked back at her. He swung around and led her toward their destination.

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It was exactly like the show had set it up as. While Sherlock mumbled a conversation with Molly over a dead body, Tabitha decided to stay by the door. Dead bodies weren't her forte – he'd rather them be alive when she interacted with them. She watched the two chat, and saw how Molly would stare at him for longer than necessary. Molly would than shake her head and go back to what they were talking about. She wondered if they had a conversation about her feelings when she helped Sherlock face his death.

"Tabitha, come here, please," Sherlock called out without looking up.

"I don't do dead bodies."

"I need a second pair of eyes," he commented, bringing his head up sharply. He stared into her eyes and she felt her stomach decide to do cartwheels. Her breath caught, and she caught Molly studying her as she stared. Tabitha felt herself blush, but covered it with an answer.

"Fine, but I can't promise anything useful," she mumbled, coming over. She peered down at the older man on the table. "What am I looking for?"

"I know he was poisoned, but there isn't any proof. I need you to look over the body for anything that shouldn't be there, something that I missed." Tabitha snorted and went to work studying the body. "What was that for?"

"You rarely miss anything, so it's entertaining when you do," she answered with a wink at him. Molly made a sudden comment about needing to do some paperwork. "Molly! Sorry, I should have introduced myself. I'm Tabitha. I'm in Sherlock's custody until they figure out who I am and why I'm here." Molly stared at her, and stuttered a 'nice to meet you' and 'I'm sorry for that'. Tabitha decided to chat with her later – she'd love to get to know Molly on a bigger level than the show had given.

Sherlock went to work at another table in the room as she studied the body. She didn't see anything out of the ordinary, considering that she had never seen a dead body before. She sighed and crouched down to look at the man's profile. She studied the side of his lips, his cheeks, his eyelids, and made her way to his ears. She stared a moment, and then made a move to get up. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw a tiny white object sticking from behind his ear. If she hadn't taken a second look, it would have just blended in with his skin.

"Sherlock!" He rushed over. "Is that something?" She pointed at the small white object. He brought some tweezers over slowly pulled the small paper-like sheet out of the dead man's ear. He brought it up to his face and studied it for a moment. He quickly headed back to his spot at the other table and begun to experiment with the object. He never answered her, but since he was working hard to figure out what it was, Tabitha knew it was important. "Alright, then, I'll just strip and dance on the table."

"Yes, do that," Sherlock mumbled, eyes completely focused on the evidence. Tabitha sighed, amused, and smiled as he suddenly stopped and looked back at her. He blinked for a moment. "What? Was that sarcasm, a comment towards the fact that I am ignoring you? Because that is not the case – I am working …"

"Just sarcasm, I'm not offended you're ignoring me. I like watching you work," she commented with a chuckle. Sherlock seemed to almost blush. "Can I sit by you?" Sherlock had a thoughtful look on his face as he glanced at the empty stool next to him. He gestured to the stool and went back to work. Tabitha quickly went over and sat down. She tried not to get too close, but still be able to see what he was doing. She watched for a few moments, than Sherlock stopped again and turned to her to study her.

"Have you done that before?" he asked curiously, going back to staring into a petri dish. Tabitha watched him put a drop of some liquid onto the specimen. She wasn't sure what he was talking about.

"Done what?"

"Dance…" he cleared his throat. "On a table…" he suddenly glared at the specimen he was watching, and his cheeks turned a pale pink. He wanted to know if she had over stripped and danced on the table! She started to laugh, and bent forward to hold herself as tears formed in her eyes. She coughed to catch her breath, and looked up again. Sherlock was still glaring at the petri dish, but not moving.

"I'm sorry, I find it funny you're curious. Yes, I have. I was 22, and I had just broken it off with my boyfriend at the time. My friends invited me over to their house to drown my sorrows, and I ended up in my underwear on the table," she answered. She propped her elbow on the table and her chin in her head. She smiled at the funny memory as she stared into space. "It was fun! We broke the table, though."

"Oh," Sherlock answered. She raised an eyebrow and looked at him.

"What?"

"Alcohol. Did you turn to it when your husband was killed?" Sherlock was back to work. Tabitha felt herself hesitate for the first time. Sherlock noticed and turned his body toward her. "I'm sorry. John says I need to get even better at knowing when to stop…"

"No, it's fine!" Tabitha said with a shaky smile and waving it off. She took a breath and settling back onto her stool. "Yes. I drank a decent amount when T.J. was killed. My therapist helped me find other ways of dealing within a few months. I'm lucky I had her to help me."

"Good," Sherlock said with an honest smile. "Ah ha!"

"Do you have something?" Tabitha asked as Sherlock jumped up and begun to put in his coat and scarf. She stood up next to him and followed him to the door, making sure to grab her bag.

"I have everything!" he cried with pride.

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	5. Stop Doing That!

_**A lot happens in this chapter. It starts getting 'mature' at the end, although the sex will be in the NEXT chapter. Enjoy and review!**_

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**CHAPTER 5 - Stop Doing That!**

He called out for Molly, who answered immediately. He talked to her in some scientific babble, and Tabitha figured it was to preserve whatever evidence he had found. Molly nodded with a smile and sent her a quick good-bye as we walked past her. It was a quick ride to the apartment as Sherlock texted, most likely Lestrade. Tabitha had her bag of books in between her legs, and watched the buildings and people fly by during their ride.

Finally, she had made it to their apartment. She was curious to meet Mrs. Hudson, and had made the decision to figure out her name, even if she had to ask her face to face. Sherlock opened the door in front of them and they walked up the stairs. Tabitha noticed it didn't seem as musty as the show had made it. It was clean, and smelled like lemon. The door to Sherlock's place was wide open, and she heard John conversing with Mrs. Hudson. They were talking about her, she knew, because her name was mentioned. They stopped when the two walking in.

"Ah, you must be Tabitha! Good to meet you, I'm Mrs. Hudson, their landlady," the older woman cheerfully said. Tabitha couldn't help but smile as the woman ushered her in and made her sit down in one of the plush chairs. John looked longingly where she sat, and she almost chuckled at the fact that she had taken over his chair. "I made some tea and biscuits."

"Oh, thank you," Tabitha answered as a cup of tea was thrust in front of her. She blinked and carefully took the china from Mrs. Hudson's hands. She sipped the tea, and was glad that sugar was put in it. She preferred anything but tea, but this would work for now. She'd go shopping for groceries later. She watched Sherlock update John on what they had found, and sat her saucer and cup on the side table next to her.

"I hear you got a bit of a head problem, dearie, are you feeling okay?" Mrs. Hudson asked as she took the cup away.

"Yes, just fine. Apparently my memories are the only thing that's a bit whacked out," she answered with a chuckle. John settled onto the couch with his feet up. He picked up a paper and started to flip through it. Sherlock settled into his chair and leaned back. Mrs. Hudson decided it was okay to babble on about the investigation that Sherlock was currently on, and John made annoyed and funny comments. Sherlock grunted a few times, and threw out sarcastic thoughts as he picked at his violin.

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The Doctor spent a very boring night in Tabitha's house. He had even decided to fix up some things to keep himself busy. The kitchen sink dripped, so he fixed that. The bedroom wall paint was peeling, so he found paint in the shed to cover it. He checked in on the TARDIS, and huffed in annoyance when she wouldn't open the doors for him. She must not be finished, he decided. He went back inside and decided to use the exercise equipment in the big bedroom. It was just a treadmill, but he pushed himself to do the highest settings. He made it to just below the final level, then he got bored and stopped. He then took a shower, using the extra towels in the hall closet.

He felt a bit guilty for using her things while she was away, but there was nothing he could do at the moment. He ran a hand through his wet hair, dressed back in his beloved bow tie and suspenders, and took out his sonic screwdriver. He waltzed over to the front door and buzzed the sonic around the frame. He read the information, hummed a bit, and did it again, moving in and out of the house as she scanned the area around the door.

There had been some sort of energy explosion. After a few more moments of analyzing he let out a yell of triumph. He knew what had happened! He grinned and turned toward the TARDIS just as it threw open its doors.

"You know you shouldn't play with dimensions!" he shouted, quickly hurling himself into the police box.

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The week passed quickly. Tabitha went to sleep each night with the slight hope that she would awaken in her bed the next morning, but each time it was Sherlock's bed that had been under her. He had insisted she take his since John was working more and needed his sleep, and Sherlock was busy with two different cases at once. He would stay up all night, and Tabitha counted that he had only about seven hours of sleep in the 6 days that he'd been working at the clues.

She had gotten enough food for them for the next few weeks, though John was a bit disappointed that Tabitha couldn't cook. She made up with making homemade cookies and cakes and pies for dessert. Sherlock rarely sat down long enough to eat, but Tabitha noticed that he nibbled on something during the night. There was a few times that Sherlock would sit down and ask her questions. Most of them were things that she knew from the television show. It didn't last long when he sat and chatted with her.

John apologized a few times, but Tabitha was actually fine with it. Sherlock was busy with cases – that was what kept him from going crazy. Besides, she had books to read. Mrs. Hudson was around most of the time, and Tabitha finally learned her first name: Martha. She was named after her maternal grandmother. Her favorite thing to do, though, was just taking a walk through London. She bought a few things she needed, but nothing major. Tabitha loved to go to the shops and cafes during the day.

It was an easy Sunday morning, her seventh day in the Sherlock world, when she got a call. She wasn't doing anything special – just lounging on the couch with one of her books from the library. Tabitha had been expecting a phone call, but was still surprised to see the name pop up on the ID. John was out on his second date with Mary, and Sherlock had gone over to Bart's to use their facilities for the morning. The phone rang a few times, and she answered it.

"Mycroft. I was wondering when you'd be calling," she murmured into the phone, saving her place and setting the book down. She made herself more comfortable on the couch and smirked.

"I have been terribly busy, Miss Hunter. How is Sherlock?" She could hear paper ruffling, and something hitting a table.

"Busy with a few cases. One about two men murdered in a flower shop and the other about a drug dealer who tried to go straight and asked for a bit too much. I haven't seen him smoke anything, or use any kind of drugs." Tabitha had been rehearsing this information for the last day and a half. It's basically what had been happening. Sherlock seemed to always be out of the flat when she was there, unless she was sleeping. He'd even be gone when she would get up in the morning. She could count on one hand how many times she had actually sit down with him to chat.

"Hm. Nothing to report, it seems," he commented. She gave a shrug, even though he couldn't see her. "You'll have another deposit of our agreed upon sum tomorrow."

"Mycroft, I didn't give you anything important."

"Don't underestimate yourself, dear." He hung up. Tabitha raised an eyebrow at her phone, and sat it down. She pulled her new laptop off the table and noticed that Sherlock had used it last night. John certainly didn't know her password. She checked the history of the browser and saw that he had been looking her name up. Again. He'd done it three times this week already. It was like he was hoping to find proof that she was making all this up.

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He made sure that his new roommate had left before he came back to his flat. Sherlock disliked to admit that he was avoiding her, but she drove him a bit mad. That oddest part about it? He enjoyed it. She accepted everything he had to say, knew secrets that other people didn't, and made him feel things he had blocked out since Irene Adler had cornered him, and long before that.

Sherlock liked her smile, the way her new clothing fit her curvy body, and that strawberry blonde wild hair that seemed to be a sexy mess all the time. Her story was impossible, yet he could find no other explanations. He had tried all of his contacts, and none of them knew of this girl, or anything that led to her abduction.

When he returned to his flat, he noticed that she had found out he'd been looking her information up on the internet again. She was rather clever, and she knew him more than he knew her. He huffed in annoyance and moved the stack of books she had left in his chair to the coffee table. She was almost done reading what she had checked out – she must be a speed reader. He made himself some tea and rested in his chair.

The cases were going to be solved soon – the flower shop murders were a misunderstanding with a cheating wife. The second one was a bit tougher. He still was working on identifying the drug. Once he had that, he was sure to find the supplier. Molly had asked him earlier about Tabitha, but he had just grunted and ignored her comment. Sherlock didn't realize it, but Molly knew something was up – he was at the lab more often than before.

"Sherlock, do you want something to eat?"

He jumped at the voice, and turned to see Tabitha wondering around the kitchen. She was making herself a sandwich – sliced turkey with cheese, lettuce, and tomatoes. He gulped when he saw her bare legs. She was wearing short running shorts and a black tank-top. She was barefoot, and her hair was in curls down her back. Tabitha raised her eyebrows and repeated her offer.

"No," Sherlock answered, angry at being distracted. He turned sharply back into a comfortable sitting position and worked to ignore the noises in the kitchen. It didn't take long for him to realize that having her there was a disruption of his thoughts. He huffed a sigh and stood up. Making what sounded like a growl, he wrapped his hand around her wrist and forcefully turned her around from the counter. The spin made her move a bit away from her sandwich, and her eyes were widened in surprise. "Stop doing that."

"Stop doing _what_?" she asked, looking confused as she shook her head. He glared down at her and pressed her against the counter with his body. She blinked, and he felt himself smirk as she noticed part of his body stiffening against the bottom of her stomach. "Oh… Oh!"

She put both hands flat on his chest to push him away, but Sherlock needed this distraction to go _away_, and Tabitha would be lying to herself if she pushed him away. Sherlock gripped her wrists with both hands, moved them off his chest down to rest awkwardly on the counter, and positioned himself so she couldn't move away. Her eyes were wide, her pupils dilated, and her breathing heavy. Sherlock bent down and kissed her. It wasn't a soft passionate kiss – it was a kiss of annoyance and lust.

He pressed his lips hard against hers, quickly moving his tongue to swipe against her own mouth. Her mouth opened in a gasp, and Sherlock closed his eyes as she welcomed his tongue. He ran it over the inside of her lip and then fought against her tongue for dominance. His hands moved up to grip her hair tightly, knowing he must have been hurting her scalp. Her fingers latched onto his hips and squeezed. Tabitha pressed her ample breasts against his hard chest and tried her best to pull his hips close enough to rub his length on her. He growled and pulled back, hands still in her hair, and glared down at her.

"Come," he scowled, turning away and practically stomping toward the hall. All Tabitha could do was blink at him. Her mouth was bruised and she was having trouble catching her breath. Sherlock turned around and huffed as he rolled his eyes. "I said, _follow me_," he growled again, coming back to grab her wrist and drag her to his bedroom.

"This is escalating quickly," Tabitha murmured, not being able to think clearly. She couldn't say _no_, could she? He stomped toward the bed and shrugged off his suit jacket. Tabitha glanced at the door, wide open. She was tempted to close it, but the look on Sherlock's face as he unbuttoned his shirt told her to just ignore it.

"Shut up and take your clothes off," he murmured, shrugging off the white button up shirt he had chosen for the day. Without thinking too much, she stripped off her tank top. Sherlock's hand's stopped for a moment as he stared at her bra. It was yellow with see-through lace. She smirked as she remember her panties matched in a bikini style. Sherlock glared at her once more as he unzipped and unbuttoned his pants. Tabitha quickly stripped off the running shorts, then felt her back slam into the wall as Sherlock basically jumped her.

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	6. You Owe Me New Ones

_**Rated M for sex here! I hope you like it. I know some people think this is OOC of Sherlock, but I think it's very close to IC. Thanks to the people who reviews - I love hearing from you! I've had some good reviews, and some good suggestions. I'm taking them ALL into account! **_

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**CHAPTER 6 - You Owe Me New Ones**

His head was clouded, and it was all because of her. Sherlock had to get out of his system. The matching yellow lace bra and pants set had instantly made his body tightened more. Completely naked, flush against her with her under things on, he groaned and moved his head to bite her neck. There was no need for foreplay. Tabitha groaned, and Sherlock moved his hand to her nipple. He bit near her collar bone, make sure to leave a mark – revenge for toying with him, with his mind.

Tabitha yelped, and then mewed when she felt his tongue soothing the bite. Her bra was pulled off, and she vaguely noticed that he had torn it. He pulled at her nipple with his fingers, and moved his head to capture the other in his mouth. He pulled and pinched with one hand on one side, and nipped and licked with his mouth on the other. Tabitha shuttered, and Sherlock suddenly pulled back and picked her up just enough so she could wrap her legs around his waist. She gasped for air as his mouth returned to the other side of her neck and his hardness rubbed against the spot between her thighs.

"Sherlock..." Tabitha groaned, pressing against him. She wanted him inside her. She didn't even notice the bedroom door wide open anymore. Sherlock sure didn't care – he needed a release from this damn distraction, and he had time to get it done.

He kept one hand around her waist and slid the other down her stomach. He gripped her lace panties and pulled, ripping them off. He heard Tabitha gasp, and growled, leaning down to bite her neck again. Tabitha held onto him by his hair and pressed her body against his. Suddenly, his body heat was gone and her feet where on the ground. She blinked at him, her breathing crazy, and noticed that he was sliding on a condom. She opened her mouth, but he moved with lightning speed, capturing her mouth with his lips and tongue and even his teeth. Sherlock's arm was around her waist, her legs back around his, and he was pushing into her. She moaned and moved one hand to run it down his back, not paying attention as her nails scratch him. Sherlock gasped and pumped himself into her. Her back hit the wall with the force of his thrusts, and she whimpered. He thrust into her and she moved her hips to keep up with him.

"Sherlock!" she said, groaning his name again. Tabitha felt a hand slid down between them, with him still thrusting, and it found her clit. She bucked against him as he flicked it, making her body shudder in release. She cried out and he thrust a few more times, grunted as he buried his face into her neck, holding her tightly. He finished twitching after a few moments, and pulled himself away.

Tabitha's legs were weak, and she leaned back against the wall as he walked calmly, nakedly, toward the bathroom. He didn't even close the door as he threw the condom away and begun to clean up. As she heard the sink running, she moved to the bed and plopped down, laying on her back and looking up at the ceiling. Her body was hot and sweaty. Tabitha heard Sherlock dressing, and turned to watch him button and zip his pants up. As he pulled on his dress shirt, she rolled over to her side and propped her head up with her hand.

"I didn't know you had it in you." Sherlock didn't look at her as he tucked in his shirt. The sex with her late husband was incredible, sure, but it was nothing like this. With T.J., it had been romantic and sensual – with Sherlock it was all desperation and lust. She absentmindedly fingered the chain around her neck. Tabitha was sure it was just some form of stress relief for the consultant detective, and she was honestly just fine with that. She was physically attracted to him, and that was all it could be with him. Especially when she was not even from this universe.

"John will be home in a few moments," he commented, as he walked across the room to grab the jacket he had flung away earlier. He didn't even look at her as he walked out of the open door. She sighed, and laid back for a few more moments. She heard the front door open and close, and rushed to close Sherlock's bedroom door. As she heard John and Sherlock murmuring in the living area, she pulled on her running shorts and tank top – without her lace underthings.

Using Sherlock's bathroom to clean up, she washed her face and ran a clean washcloth over her body. She tossed it in the laundry pile of Sherlock's, and picked up her torn, _expensive_, matching set. Not really caring what John would think, she opened the bedroom door and made her way to the where her current roommates were. She held both her bra and panties in one hand as she walked in to find John and Sherlock setting in their respective chairs. Sherlock was in his usual thinking position, and John was looking through a newspaper.

"You owe me new ones," Tabitha said sternly, holding up the set. John glanced and looked away, only to whip his face around to fully look at what was in her hand.

"Hm," Sherlock grunted.

"Are those – are those….?" John stuttered, looking back and forth between Tabitha and Sherlock. Sherlock let out an irritated sigh and glanced at his best friend.

"Yes, those are pieces of lingerie. Is there a reason why I owe you new ones?" Sherlock commented glancing in Tabitha's direction and turning back to stare at the wall.

"You shredded them. I can't wear them anymore." Tabitha sat them on the side table in front of the two men. John stared at them, confusion and surprise on his face. It was almost comical if Tabitha hadn't been upset about her favorite set being ruined.

"Oh? Pity, I rather like them on you," Sherlock murmured. "Take my card and buy three sets."

"How did you… oh. Oh!" John sat back in stunned silence as it finally clicked. "I... I didn't know you… you _did_ that…"

"Sex? Only when it's too much of a distraction, which is very rare. My physical attraction to Tabitha has proven to be a distraction, therefore the only way to get rid of it is to satisfy my physical needs," Sherlock mumbled, already seeming bored with the conversation. John looked to Tabitha and she shrugged at him.

"Hey, I get laid, it works," she quipped with a chuckle. Sherlock smirked.

"Wow. Okay. Wow. I'm… I'm going to make some tea," John said. It seemed he was still in shock. Tabitha picked up the yellow lace and stood in front of Sherlock with her hands on her hips.

"I suppose I should expect to be on call with my body every now and then," she commented sarcastically, although the thrill of that kind of rough and desperate sex with Sherlock seemed completely fine with her.

"Unfortunately, your body arouses me more often than I would like it to. Yes, 'on call' is a good phrase to use."

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The Doctor had spent the last hour fumbling with everything on the console. The information that he had gathered was all over the place – one said this woman was in a different dimension, the other said a different time, the other one said a different planet, and still another said that she had been erased from history. He mumbled under his breath as he turned a knob and spun around to smack the screen with his hand.

"What really happened?!" he cried out to the TARDIS. The screen flashed, showing white noise for a moment, and then a picture came up. It was a cluttered flat, and a woman was waving a set of yellow undergarments at two men. One was tall, pale, and dark-haired, while the other was short, a bit tan, and light-haired. The Doctor blinked a moment – he knew who they were. He huffed and fell into the chair near the console.

"You sent her inside a television show?" he asked. The TARDIS whirred an answer, sounding almost gleeful.

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Sherlock was in a better mood than he'd been in for the last week. Now that those unimportant urges were out of his way, his mind was clear and he was ready to work. Unfortunately, this was one of the few times that there were no cases for him. Lestrade didn't have anything for him, and the investigation on Tabitha was stone cold. There was nothing on her, though he supposed that he could take that particular case to keep him occupied. Where was she from and why was she here? It had been a little over a week since she stumbled into their laps.

"Tabitha!" he called out, keeping his eyes on the wall in front of him.

"Yes?" she asked, looking up from her spot on the couch. She was lounging with a book in her hand. Sherlock took a moment to study her – she liked the book, and there was a hint of irritation at him interrupting her. He didn't care, though.

"Do you still think you're in another 'universe'?" he asked, his brow furrowed. Maybe something in her mind had changed.

"Yep," she answered, putting her nose back in her book. "John left about two hours ago, by the way."

"Why haven't you gone back, then?" He hadn't realized John was gone, but that was not unusual.

"Maybe I've been sent here to drive you mad with my body," she quipped. Sherlock grunted, taking note of her sarcasm and rolling his eyes. "I have no idea. Do you believe in fate?"

"Obviously not," he answered. "There is no such thing."

"And we all thought it was impossible to be sucked into a television show, hm?"

"I still am not convinced that's what happened."

"Maybe. What clues do you have against it?" Sherlock was silent for a moment, going through the facts in his mind quickly. She laughed at him, going back to her book. "See?"

"There are better answers to our problems than you magically popping into a television series," Sherlock huffed, standing up and pacing. His dressing gown flew around as he stomped back and forth. Tabitha didn't seem to be bothered by it. Sherlock sighed and headed over to his office to look into some experiments that were in progress.

"Let me know when you have those answers!" she teased from the living room. He ignored her.

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Tabitha decided to head out to explore after annoying Sherlock for a bit. She had thrown on some jeans, trainers, and a white button-up t-shirt. Making sure she had the wedding wing on a necklace, she headed toward the door. She threw on her new black leather jacket and stuck her wallet in her pants. John was just coming in as she was going out.

"No case," she warned as she started to walk down the sidewalk.

"Bloody hell," John murmured, not seeming to look forward to his friend in their apartment. John cursed under his breath as he went up the stairs. Tabitha couldn't help but grin – she was still in owe of the odd couple. They were just as they were on television – which was rather creepy if you think about. Tabitha started to walk aimlessly – she would just hail a taxi to get back to the apartment. What if she was on the next season of Sherlock?

She made a face and shuddered at the thought. She was definitely not 'television series' type of girl. She was rather plain and boring. She thought about earlier that morning when Sherlock had jumped her, and grinned. That was pretty damn awesome. He was definitely not asexual OR into men as some fans may think, at least only men. He knew what he was doing when it came to sex.

Tabitha kept a smile on her face as she strolled along. She noticed a black limo trailing behind her, and sighed. Mycroft was finally taking the time out to have a face to face conversation. She stopped without being told, and crossed her arms over her chest. Leaning against the wall of the building next to her, she waited for the limo to slow to a stop. As soon as a woman opened the door, though, she realized it was not Mycroft that was contacting her. She raised an eyebrow as the woman pulled herself out and gestured for her to get in. It was not Mycroft's secretary, but rather another certain person's secretary…. Of sorts. Tabitha nodded and slid in, followed by the woman. The door shut and the car took off.

"Miss Adler is keeping an eye on Sherlock it seems," Tabitha stated, looking out of the window.


	7. That Was An Offer, Dear

**_Here you go! The Doctor and Tabitha finally (kind of!) meet! I hope you like this chapter. It's a bit of a filler. Thanks for the lovely reviews and follows and favorites!_**

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**CHAPTER 7 - That Was An Offer, Dear**

The woman turned her face away from her phone in surprise at Tabitha's words.

"The rumors about you are true," she hummed, back to texting.

"What rumors?" Tabitha asked, curious. She had tried her best to keep attention away from herself, but she supposed that being around Sherlock had drawn attention to her anyway. She looked out the window at the passing streets and buildings.

"You know all about the little secrets we are trying to keep."

"Do you know my story?"

"I have been told what you think happened to you."

"I really don't care of you believe me."

"I know."

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Their drive lasted half an hour. They finally pulled up next to an abandoned factory, and the chauffer opened up the door for the women. Tabitha followed the woman inside, lazily glancing around the big building. It was cleaned up and bare. It almost looked like the place that John had found out Irene wasn't dead the first time, but it wasn't exactly like. Very similar, though. The woman nodded toward a door down the corridor.

"In there."

"Thank you," Tabitha answered, a bit excited to meet the famous Irene Adler. She pushed open the door and stepped in, letting it close silently behind her. She looked around the big warehouse area, and took a few slow steps forward. Her hands were clasped in front of her. "Ms. Adler, you wanted to see me?" Tabitha called out, her voice echoing. She heard clicking of heels and turned her head to the left to see Irene walk regally into the open space.

"You story is unbelievable," Irene murmured, holding onto a black clutch in her hands. She was wearing a dark purple dress that matched the white dress that Tabitha had first seen her wear on the show. Her black high heels were stylish and sexy. The woman moved to stand in front of Tabitha, looking her up and down. "Yet, there is no other explanation."

"I don't lie," Tabitha answered with wide smile, her hands staying in their clasped position in front of her. "Unless I have no choice," she added with a chuckle. Irene smiled at her, an honest and admiring smile. Tabitha turned and walked toward a metal box-like appendage that was attached to the wall. She pulled herself up to sit on it, and put her hands beside her. "When you were alone with Sherlock, did you do a scene with him?"

Irene raised an eyebrow and moved to lean against the same attachment. She looked forward, but used her peripheral sight to smirk at Tabitha while studying her. Tabitha had many more questions, but didn't want to push the moment of honesty here. Irene chuckled and kept silent about the question. Tabitha sighed, a bit irritated that the question wasn't answered.

"Someone just had a lovely afternoon," Irene answered with a knowing grin on her face. She moved to turn her body to face the girl. Tabitha took a moment to think about if she should answer it – why not, it was obvious to Irene, anyway.

"Who knew Sherlock was that talented at sex?" Tabitha answered with a shrug. Irene's eyes widened, and her mouth opened with a big grin. Tabitha smirked back at the woman, and changed the subject. "Why are you keeping tabs on Sherlock? Trying to keep his virtue safe?"

"If I were, I failed, don't you say?"

"Completely," Tabitha nodded. She hopped down onto the floor, and put her hands on her hips as she faced the extravagant woman in beside her. "Enough chitchat. Do you want something from me?"

"Other than to beat you? Nothing important. I just wanted to see if you were what they all said you were." Irene pulled away with a bored look, obviously done with Tabitha. She started to walk away, but turned around to find Tabitha still in her place, with a wide grin on her face. "That was an offer, dear."

"Very tempting," Tabitha flirted, relaxing her posture. "If Sherlock doesn't keep me satisfied, I'll be sure to find you."

Irene turned around with a chuckle as she slinked across the room and out another door, her heels clicking and the echoes following her past the door. Tabitha waited until she couldn't hear Irene anymore and turned back towards the door. She walked through it and nodded to the woman who was patiently waiting for her. They left the building and made their way back to Baker Street.

During the ride, the woman was busy doing who-knows-what on her phone, and Tabitha watched the London landscape while she thought. Irene was watching Sherlock – that was obvious. It was obvious why she was doing it – she cared about him. In the end, after everything that happened, Irene still cared for Sherlock. She also knew that he would never look at her again, in any way, shape, or form.

**We've left on a case – JW **

Tabitha realized something as she turned away from her phone that Irene had said during their conversations – _I just wanted to see if you were what they all said you were. _Who was _they_, and what did_ they_ say about her? She gritted her teeth in annoyance and glanced at the woman beside her. Nothing out of the ordinary. She turned back toward the window, noticing they were almost to the flat. She wondered if these people had something to do with her appearance into this television show.

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When Tabitha got back, the apartment was empty, just as she had expected. The boys wouldn't be back for a while, so might as well finish the book she had been reading earlier. She picked it up off the coffee table and laid on the couch, her feet stretched out in front of her. A few moments after she had finally started to get back into her reading headspace, a knock on the door sounded. She raised an eyebrow as she placed the book down on the table and walked over. She opened it to find a teenage boy with an envelope in her hand.

"Some guy paid me 50 pounds to give this to you," he said with a shrug. He was chewing gum, and he popped it as he shoved the envelope into her hands. He rushed downstairs and Tabitha slowly shut the door. She studied the envelope as she sat down. It was a small envelope, slightly yellowed with age. Holding the flap down was a wax seal. It looked rather old, like someone had been waiting for this time. Who was it from? All that was on the front was her name – Tabitha Hunter.

She slouched on the couch and carefully opened the envelope. She took out the later and unfolded it. The script was in cursive, but in a messy, manly type of writing.

_Ms. Tabitha Hunter,_

_I am so very sorry about all this. The TARDIS has a mind of its own. At the moment, I am not able to bring you back to your universe. My blue box has seemed to take longer to repair itself than usual – I must have fried some important parts. In all honesty, it was entirely the TARDIS's fault. She decided to play around with dimensions and send you into the Sherlock television show. I suppose you already know that. I promise I will get there as soon as I can!_

_The Doctor_

After reading it a few more times, Tabitha looked away, confused. She sighed and leaned back, staring into space. This doctor and his blue box was to blame for this happening? Before all this, she would have thought whoever sent this letter was out of their mind. Now, she just wanted this doctor to get here and explain things to her. Thinking about leaving, though, made her slightly depressed.

Tabitha hummed to herself as she stood up and started to make caramel pecan bars from scratch. The process took about three hours, and by the time John and Sherlock stumbled in, she was just bringing them out of the oven.

"Were you the chase-ee or the chas-er?" she called out as she took the oven mitts off her hands. She turned and smiled at the men who were pulling their coats off, John taking in deep breaths and both glistening with a little bit of sweat. Sherlock ignored her comment and made a beeline for his office cove, mumbling to himself with his studious face.

"We almost got him," John finally said, plopping into a kitchen chair and eyeing the baked goods. He ran a hand through his messy hair and looked up at the ceiling. "I don't think I'll be able to see Mary tonight…"

"Why not?" Tabitha asked, moving towards the counter to pick up a take-away menu. She looked over it, deciding what she wanted for dinner tonight.

"I just ran ten blocks."

"No bad," Tabitha chuckled, finally figuring out what she wanted. After making a quick dinner call as John picked up her own phone, she sat next to him, speaking up only when he had put down the phone. "So?"

"We're meeting an half an hour," John said with a grin.

"Mary and you were meant to be, you know," Tabitha said, raising her eyebrows at him. He rolled his eyes, but Tabitha could see the blush on his cheeks as he grinned.

"That's completely stupid," Sherlock interrupted, barging into the room with flair. He wondered around the living room, searching for something in the stacks of books and papers that littered the room. He growled to himself as he pushed a whole stack of loose papers to the floor and moving across the room to a stack of books. "It's here, I know it is!"

"If you tell us what you're looking for, maybe we can help," Tabitha answered politely. John got up and went to get ready for his date as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. She realized that this was something he was used to happening. Tabitha hadn't seen Sherlock that much in the last week or so she had been living here, so it was still new to her.

Sherlock made an irritated noise and scurried through the kitchen, peaking at every spot on the counters and tables. Tabitha watched him with her eyebrows raised, and he turned quickly to her. She blinked at him, holding his stare for a few moments, feeling her heart race speed up. She licked her bottom lip, and he seemed to glare at her.

"Ah ha!" he cried, pulling his gaze away from hers and pulling a file out from under her arm on the table. Tabitha got her breathing under control as he plopped down at his desk and began to look through the papers. His dark hair wasn't under control at all, and his hand swept through it repeatedly as he mumbled to himself and shuffled through papers. He had changed into a t-shirt, pajama bottoms, and his blue dressing gown. Tabitha smirked – it looked great on him. If only she could see him casual outside of the flat.

There was a knock at the door and Tabitha grabbed the ordered food just as John came out of his bedroom. Tabitha hummed in approval as she caught the scent of a very nice cologne that he had thrown on. He looked handsome in his jeans and jumper, and the smug look on his face made Tabitha want to wish him luck on getting laid. Tabitha snorted at the thought, and John looked at her confused as he pulled on his coat and headed toward the door.

"Don't get into any trouble," he ordered, pointing a finger at her. He glanced at Sherlock, and then raised his eyebrows at Tabitha. "Well, don't try to get into trouble, hm?"

"Never!" Tabitha laughed as he left. She set up her dinner on the coffee table and took a seat on the floor in front of the couch. Tabitha turned on the television and watched some odd British show that she really didn't think was all that funny. She didn't even want to know the name of it! "What's this case about?" she asked Sherlock. When he didn't answer, Tabitha turned, picked up a couch pillow, and threw it at him. It hit him on the side of his head, and he looked over at her with annoyance. She grinned at him, and his face softened. Tabitha could have sworn he almost smiled.

"I do listen to you," he reassured her with a smirk and a mumble, turning back to his papers. He shuffled through a few, and begun to type on his computer keyboard. "I've seen you read the papers, you should know. Three women have been murdered, all with the same 16 stab wounds. They don't seem to be connected, but I know there is something that I've stored away."

"Have you checked your palace?" Tabitha asked, taking a bite and looking at Sherlock with interest. He stopped what he was doing and turned his body toward her in his chair. He leaned back a bit, his elbow resting on the table with his finger near his mouth. His other hand was laying on his knee.

"I've never mentioned my mind palace," he stated, studying her body language.

**PLEASE REVIEW**


	8. Shut Up, Go To Sleep

_**SMUT AT THE END OF THIS CHAPTER. Hope you like it! Plot twist!**_

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**CHAPTER 8 - Shut Up, Go To Sleep**

"You believe my story, Sherlock," she commented, making sure it wasn't a question. She turned her attention to finishing her meal, and Sherlock watched her intensely. She felt her face heat up a bit, not appreciating how he stared at her while she was chomping on food. "Stop doing that."

"I cannot believe your story," he finally answered, turning back to his work.

"But you do!" She said it in a sing-song voice as she picked up her plate and threw it into the sink. She made a face at the dishes that obviously needed washing, and decided to do it the next day. It was dark now and she was tired. She glanced at Sherlock, and saw him focused entirely on the computer screen in front of him. Tabitha wanted to get to know him better – to know what he was like before the man in the show script. Right now, though, he was not in this world. No, he was in his _own_ world.

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Time had passed quickly as Sherlock studied all the evidence. It finally came to him just as he found himself dosing off in his chair, slipping slightly enough to jar himself awake. He jumped up grinning, and quickly found his phone to call Lestrade. He dialed and it rang. And it rang. And it rang. Sherlock frowned in irritation – why wouldn't the detective pick up? Finally, someone answered.

"What the hell?" Lestrade cried sleepily. "Its 4 AM on my day off, you prick!"

"Sleeping is boring. I've solved the case. They all had the same babysitter while they were growing up."

"What? The babysitter did it?"

"No, her husband."

"What?"

"Her husband was jealous of the attention she gave them."

"And he waited 20 years to get his revenge?"

"She was just about to start her own day care. Apparently, she crossed a line. I can understand – children are annoying and messy."

"Go to bed, Sherlock." The phone line went dead.

He looked around the room, realizing that it certainly was late. Tabitha was not on the couch, so she must have gone to bed. He didn't see any indication that John had come back from his date – he must have decided to stay at his girlfriend's for sex. Sherlock was relieved – John was very grouchy when he didn't have intercourse for a long period of time. He thought back to that morning – visions of Tabitha in the yellow undergarments popped into his mind. He threw it back into that dark place where his secret memories were kept. She had met up with Ms. Adler after their moment of passion – he could smell the woman's perfume on her clothing.

Sherlock suddenly felt his body shutting down. He hazily thought back to the last time he had slept – four days ago. He stumbled to his bedroom, not bothering to turn off any lights, and literally fell onto the bed. His arm hit Tabitha, who was sleeping on her side facing away from the door, and she yelped loudly. She spring up to a sitting position, and Sherlock growled at her.

"Shut up, go to sleep."

He threw his arm around her waist, pulled her close, and made her lay with her back facing his front. Sleep had already partially taken over his mind, or he would have never done that. He murmured as sleep took him, and he unknowingly nuzzled her hair as he snuggled closer to her. Tabitha wasn't sure what was going on, but she decided to just go with it. Sherlock wasn't going to do this while he was awake.

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After three days of trying to keep himself busy in Tabitha's town, The Doctor was going out of his mind. The TARDIS refused to move, taking its time repairing the infinity of rooms that it had. He didn't want to push his precious box, but it was seriously starting to irritate him. To get his mind off of this issue, he took up a job at the toy store. He grinned as he remembered his time with Craig and Alfie – he wondered how they were doing?

The next few days were a bit easier to handle – he interacted with many children, telling them stories of his adventures, of his home world, and of his best friends. It saddened him, just a little bit, that they brushed it off as fantasies, but that was the way it should be. Everyone would panic if they knew about the dangerous species outside their home world.

Every so often, after work, he'd ask the TARDIS to show him a vision of what the woman was up to. Most of time she was reading, another time she had been talking to a woman, seeming to flirt with every glance. A few times she was talking to a man with an umbrella in an abandoned factory. It didn't faze the Doctor to see her interacting with all the beloved characters of the modern Sherlock television show.

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Tabitha woke up to the sun poking through the curtains. Her eyes popped wide open, and she had the sudden urge to move. She couldn't seem to sit still longer than necessary. Trying to move away, she noticed she was trapped by lanky arms that were holding her tightly. She glanced back at Sherlock, his curly hair flopping into his face. He let out light breaths. She studied his face, which was relaxed and angelic. Something she had never seen before, except maybe on the television show when the character was alone to think. His lips were partially open, and Tabitha had the urge to turn toward him and kiss him soundly. Unfortunately, whatever their relationship was, he was the initiator. Anything that happened would be started by him.

Instead, she laid back down and let him hug her tightly to his body, him spooning her. She focused on relaxing her breathing, trying to doze back off. She felt something back her backside, and realize that Sherlock was aroused. Unconsciously, she pressed back against him, and Sherlock out a soft hum. Tabitha's body responded, and her stomach filled with butterflies, and goosebumps slid over her body. She swallowed and pressed against him again, feeling him respond by holding her tighter. Her breathing became shallow. Visions of what happened the day before came to her, and her face started to heat up.

Suddenly, she was shoved to the edge of the bed, and Sherlock jumped up. She turned her body to face him, confusion written all over her face.

"Why are you _doing_ that?!" he growled, stomping to his closet. Tabitha furrowed her brows angrily as he pulled out his usual outfit, but with a light blue shirt.

"Why am _I_ doing that? You were the one that wouldn't let me _go_!" Tabitha shot back, pushing herself off the bed. She put her hands on his hips as he pulled his shirt off. Her hair was messy, needing to be brushed, and her usual yellow pajamas were wrinkled with restless sleep. Her ring on the chain bounced off her chest as she stomped toward him. Unfortunately, her nipples had also responded and hadn't quite settled down. Tabitha didn't care, at the moment, though.

"A bad decision on my part, let me assure you," he growled back, turning around in only his pajama pants. She raised her eyebrows and stared pointedly at the arousal in front of his pants. He huffed and took her by the shoulders, spinning her around and pushing her toward the door. "Get out. I have things to do."

Before he had pushed her through the door, she turned on him and pushed on his chest, throwing him off guard. He stumbled back, and sputtered as she slammed the door behind her without looking back.

"How is that going to work with_ that_?" she asked, flicking her finger toward his crotch. She kept her hands on her hips after that, waiting for an answer.

"You underestimate my ability to ignore."

"Like yesterday?" she quipped with a sly smile. His face seemed to flush a bit as he scowled at her.

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It was infuriating that she was correct in her assumptions. There was no way he could ignore the issue at the moment – he had awoken from a fervent dream that included both Tabitha and himself naked, in a dimly lit room full of books. When he looked at any kind of book, now, he would think of that stupid dream. She grinned at him, and took a step closer. Their bodies were just mere centimeters from each other. She looked up at him, and Sherlock kept the scowl on his face.

"I'm perfectly okay with this – sex isn't something that has to involve emotions," she reassured him. She moved her hands to his bare chest, and his stomach dipped with the touch. She slid them up and around his neck. Sherlock's lips parted with a barely held sigh as she pressed her chest against his. He still kept the scowl on his face, but it was obvious to her that he was losing his concentration. "Might as well get it out of the way, yes?"

"Shush!" he stated furious just before he slammed his lips to hers. Tabitha's lips parted instantly, and he swept his tongue into her mouth. His hands found her hips, squeezing tightly as he pulled her hard against his hardness. Sherlock felt and heard the moan she let out, and growled. He slipped his hands under her tank top, desperate to make this bothersome feeling go away.

The top was flung to the ground, and Tabitha stepped back to push down her pajamas. He watched her gracefully pull her legs out of them, and toss them to the side. His body decided to accept the sight as teasing, making his whole body flush with desire and heat. She licked her lips as she stood in front of him, naked, waiting for him to make a move. Her breasts heaved, her nipples puckering under his stair.

"Bed," he murmured, taking her hand and pulling her. They slid onto the bed, and he moved on top of her. She looked up at him, spreading her legs hurriedly, breathily heavily already. He settled between them with his body, and brushed his lips against her neck, one hand underneath her head and in her hair. She tilted her head back as his hand moved to pinch her nipple. Tabitha groaned and clutched his shoulders.

He pulled his head up and took her mouth impatiently. Sherlock's mind was foggy, being overstimulated by her scent and taste. He made a frustrating noise as he kissed her hard enough to bruise her lips. Tabitha took what he gave willingly, and he shoved her thighs apart. His body craved release, and he didn't give a second thought to thrusting hard inside her. Tabitha gasped and cried out as she lifted her hips to meet his. She grabbed him by the cheeks and pulled his lips back to hers.

Their bodies slickened with sweat as he pounded inside her, gripping her hip with one and holding her shoulder tightly with another. His lips moved from her mouth down her jaw and to her neck, nipping and then lapping at the spot with his tongue. She wrapped her leg around his, pulling their hips even closer with each thrust. Sherlock placed that information in that hidden portion she had taken over – that certain spot on her neck make her slicken around his manhood. She pushed at his chest, and he stopped his thrusting, looking down at her, confused. Their breathing was harsh, their panting filling the room.

"Don't say a damn word," she ground out, pushing him so that they rolled over and she took the spot on top of him. He blinked up at her as she placed her hands on his chest to steady herself over him. He moved his hands to her hips, gripped them tightly, and pushed her down onto him. She threw her head back, groaning, and begun to move over him. His breath caught, and he moved his hips with hers. He tried to completely focus on own release, but his eyes never left the beauty that was above him. Sherlock slid his hands up her waist, to her breasts, and gently plucked at her nipples as she let out another moan and rubbed her wetness against him.

She was close, and Sherlock wanted to watch her come undone. Instinct took over, and he rolled them over once more, watching her face, memorizing her expressions as she came close to her own release. He moved his lips to that specific spot on her neck, and moved his fingers to play with the nub between her legs as he thrust. She gasped and bucked against hand, her own tightening in his hair as she let out a cry of pleasure.

The tightening of her around him, plus that pleasure-filled cry, sent him over the edge. He grunted, holding her hips with one hand and holding himself up with the other placed beside her. He spilled himself inside her, humming with satisfaction as her hands rubbed down his back. Tabitha brushed her lips against his cheek, wrapping her arms around his neck. He fell on top of her, breathing hard, his mind hazy. His body was weak, exactly how his body was supposed to feel after such an immense climax. He let her hold him, not willing to admit that she was the one letting him stay close.

After a few moments, he felt himself moving out of her, and pulled away. She quietly let him, and pushed herself up, walking to the loo. She softly shut the door behind her, and Sherlock heard sink being turned on. He lay on his back, his mind racing, trying to make sense of the feelings, the emotions, which seemed to settle in him when they had intercourse. His breathing slowed, and his brain finally pushed away all the sentiment that had come upon him. Sighing, relieved that it was gone for the time being, he pushed himself up just as Tabitha came out from the door.


	9. It's None Of Your Business

_**Thanks for the lovely reviews! Face the music, Sherlock, there may be issues! It may be cliche what I am going ot end up doing, but I don't care. I hope you like this! the Doctor meets sherlock in the NEXT chapter.**_

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**CHAPTER 9 - It's None Of Your Business**

Tabitha watched him quietly, listening as he shut the door and turned on the shower in the bathroom. On the outside, she was doing a decent job making herself seem calm. On the inside, though, she felt like crying. He hadn't said a word during sex. It was all about him, but she knew that. She should be okay with that. It had been slightly different when they had finished – he had made sure she was completely finished before him. He had let her hold him!

As soon as he had time to clear his mind, though, Sherlock had pushed her away and made his way to clean up. Tabitha thought she was fine with being a stress reliever, but now she realized she definitely wasn't. Add the fact that they hadn't used protection, and she was completely done with being used for her body. The consulting detective had opened up that part of her that she had willingly closed when her husband was killed, but he would never return it.

She pulled on underwear, a bra, and a simple jean and t-shirt combination. Her feet would be bare – she suddenly planned to clean up the apartment. Tabitha hated to clean, but it was the best way to clear the mind and focus on something other than your problems. She pushed her curly hair up into a pony-tail, and walked to the door. She knew Sherlock and she should talk about what had just happen, but she had a feeling he would just 'delete' it from his mind.

She closed the door behind him just as Sherlock finished cleaning up. She made her way down the hallway into the living room. Checking the clock, she saw that it was nearing the middle of the day. Tabitha went to the kitchen, getting out some eggs to make herself some breakfast. She wrinkled her nose at the small pieces of human flesh at the bottom of the refrigerator, and closed it quickly. Tabitha focused intensely on her task as she heard Sherlock stride into the room.

"Sherlock, you have a package!" Mrs. Hudson called from the other side of the door. She opened it up and stepped inside with a big smile on her face. "Good morning, Tabitha!"

"Morning, Martha," Tabitha murmured, trying to put a real smile on her face. Mrs. Hudson fluttered about, placing the shoebox-sized parcel on the coffee table and then picking up some of the papers next to it. "Oh, I'll get that. I'm going to do some cleaning today."

Sherlock's eyebrows rose, but he didn't say anything.

"Oh, good, this place needs a good cleaning. I wanted to watch the telly this afternoon – there is a special broadcast with Prince William and the princess today!"Mrs. Hudson patted Sherlock on the back and made her way out of the room. Sherlock had put on his black suit with a black shirt for the day. Tabitha wondered if he owned any other clothing, beside his pajamas. She finished her eggs and toast, then took her plate to couch. Sherlock had taken his spot at his desk, fiddling with his laptop. It was eerily quiet to Tabitha, but Sherlock didn't seem to notice. She nibbled on her food, eating only half, and then placed it on the coffee table next to the package with a sigh.

"You never clean, if you can help it," Sherlock murmured, keeping his eyes on the screen. They both heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and turned at the same time to see John come in with a wide grin. Mary was beside him, her face a bit flushed.

"This is Tabitha," John said with a flourishing wave of his hand. Tabitha put on a genuine smile and stood up to take Mary's hand in hers.

"Yes! Mary Morstan. I've heard a lot about you," she said with a chuckle. Mary looked just like Amanda Abbington – thin and beautiful. Her blonde hair was settled over her shoulders, and she was wearing a dark cotton t-shirt dress with a simple white belt around her middle. "Your shoes are perfect," Tabitha complimented. They were dark ankle boots.

"Thank you," Mary answered, pulling her hand away. John murmured a few words into her ear, and the woman giggled. Sherlock grunted in annoyance and spring up.

"We have a case. If you are finished with your nightly events, we are needed at the crime scene," Sherlock said stiffly, grabbing his scarf and coat. Mary opened her mouth, but John stopped her with his hand.

"I promised Mary we'd spend the day together, take Tabitha," John stated.

"You're better than she is."

"I'm busy, Sherlock, with my girlfriend." Tabitha winked at Mary, and threaded her arm through Sherlock's, like he was escorting her to a dance of sorts.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure to nod and smile and comment whenever he needs attention!" Tabitha chuckled. All Sherlock did was grunt and pull away. Tabitha rolled her eyes, and followed him. "Don't worry, John, I'll text you if it's important!"

John hummed, and turned to his girlfriend. No one gave the package a second glance.

00000000000000000000000000000

The Doctor cried out and shut off the screen in front of him. He felt his face flush and covered his eyes with his hands.

"Why did you show me _that_?" he shouted, stepping back and hitting the railing. The TARDIS whirred a laugh and flashed the lights around the console room humorously. The Doctor shook his head, trying to get the image of nudity out of his head. "That was a private moment!"

He sent a disapproving look up at the ceiling, and begun to look over the controls and calculations of the TARDIS. After pushing, pulling, spinning, and flipping some switches the TARDIS turned all the way on. He cried out in glee and whipped around to the screen again. He typed in coordinates, reached out to grab the big flip handle, and grinned up at no one in particular.

"It's going to be a bumpy ride!"

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"Why is she here?" Lestrade groaned. Tabitha furrowed her eyebrows at the disdain in his voice. She thought Lestrade liked her!

"John is busy," she huffed, putting her hands on her hips and standing beside Sherlock. He was looking down at a body face down. They were in a garden behind a three story house. There wasn't a lot of houses surrounding them. The body was female, by the dress, and looked to be in her 40s. She was splayed out in the dirt.

"Look, you don't have any certifications –"

"No one else will work with me. She's decent at spotting things," Sherlock murmured, crouching down and studying the body. Tabitha raised her eyebrows at Lestrade and grinned smugly.

"True. How's the memories?" the detective asked as they waited for Sherlock to finish his preliminary study. Tabitha curiously watched Sherlock lift an arm, study her fingers, and flop it back down. She saw Donovan by the group of police cars and other officers, eyeing her and Sherlock wearily. She moved her eyes over to the other side of the crime scene, and saw Anderson. Unlike most fans, she didn't despise Anderson for being himself – she hated him for the way he treated Sherlock. One of these days, she'd take a moment to speak with him.

"Same as before, Lestrade," she answered. Sherlock had taken out his small magnifying glass and was studying various spots on her dark coat. "Have you found anything about me?"

"Nothing," he sighed, sending her a sympathetic glance. She looked back at him and shrugged. Tabitha knew he wouldn't find anything, and she felt a bit sorry for him that he thought that he could. There was no way she could tell this man how she had really come to this place – by the Doctor's TARDIS, whatever that was. She made a mental note to search for information online.

"Tabitha," Sherlock said loudly, keeping his eyes on the body and motioning her over with his hand. She moved and crouched down next to him.

"You have one more minute, then I need something," Lestrade warned. Sherlock ignored him, like always.

"Look just under her coat sleeves," he murmured softly, glancing at her and pointing with his finger. Tabitha narrowed her eyes and brought her head down closer. She studied the place for a moment, not sure what she was looking for, and then she saw it. A dark freckle just above her wrist.

"That could just be a freckle," she said, pulling back.

"Do you think so?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. Tabitha turned her head to look at him, his face softer than it usual was with everyone else. His lips were in a straight line, but his eyes were reassuring her to look closer. She rolled her eyes and turned back to the spot. She squinted at it again.

Looking for a moment longer, she recognized the color at the edges were a green tint. She grinned and pulled back. Sherlock smirked.

"The coloring is different."

"Yes. We will need skin samples. If we figure out why it is discolored, it may lead us somewhere." He pushed himself up, and quickly strode over to Lestrade.

"If you already knew that, why did you want me to look at it?" Tabitha asked, hurriedly following him.

"I wanted to see if you observed," he said. He then turned to Lestrade. "Early 40s, recently divorced – bitterly, it seems, unattached, worked at the local library, one sister. I'd check with the husband, the lawyers, and the manager at the library. I need skin simples from the spot on her wrist."

He swirled around, his coat billowing out behind him, and started walking toward the front of the lawn. Tabitha winked at Lestrade, who gave her a chuckle, and followed him. His phone made the noise of a text from John, and he looked down at it as they walked quickly toward Mrs. Hudson's car. Tabitha had been pleasantly surprised when she realized Martha had a vehicle that they let them burrow for the case.

"What does John want?" Tabitha asked, Standing next to the car while Sherlock texted him back. Lestrade popped up beside him, wanting to say something.

"He was complaining about your undergarments just outside my bedroom door," Sherlock answered, looking over at Lestrade. Tabitha felt her face flush, not realizing that her clothing had made it out the door in their frenzy to get naked.

"Oops," she murmured, shrugging her shoulders innocently at Lestrade. His mouth dropped open, and he looked between the two of them.

"You… and you… oh, for god sake!" he huffed, throwing his hands up. "You can't sleep with someone under your protection! Hell, I didn't even know you…. You know!" Lestrade's face was a bit red with annoyance, and his hand found his temple.

"It's none of your business," Sherlock said with a hint of irritation. "What did you need?"

"The samples will be taken to your flat in a few hours."

"Thank you," Sherlock responded, sending an over-the-top smile. Tabitha nodded and got into the car as Sherlock walked around to the right side and slid in. Tabitha would never get used to the opposite driving side. She had gotten into the driver's side earlier, and Sherlock had a fit about how dense she had to be to get into the wrong side. Tabitha had told him to shut it, and pinched his arm. The ride had been filled with silent glares from Sherlock as Tabitha kept her laugh inside.

This ride, though, was comfortable.

"Lestrade almost had a heart attack," Tabitha chuckled. She looked out the window with a smile, and Sherlock chuckled himself. "No one sees you as sexual. At all. I don't understand it."

"And you do?" he asked softly.

"Always have." She kept her eyes on the window.

"You were upset with me before we left."

Tabitha felt her body stiffen involuntarily.

"I'm fine."

"I've learned, through John, that when a woman says she is fine, she really is not fine," he commented. Tabitha took a deep breath.

"We didn't use protection, Sherlock," she answered stiffly, pressing her lips tightly together and holding her hands tightly in her lap.

**REVIEW PLEASE**


	10. You Watch Us!

_**The Doctor meets Sherlock, John, and Tabitha! I hope you like this chapter! It was hard trying to write the Doctor in a Sherlock universe. I haven't watched Doctor Who in a while (I'm a bad fan!) so I had to rewatch a few clips to get into character. Please review and tell me your thoughts!**_

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**CHAPTER 10 - You Watch Us?!**

"I lost control." His hands turned a bit white as he gripped the wheel. They drove in silence for a little while, and when they were 15 minutes away from the flat, she finally looked over at him.

"Sherlock, you do realize what could happen now, right?" she asked timidly.

"Of course I do," he scoffed. "Where are you with your cycle?" Tabitha's face turned pink as she sighed and thought. With Sherlock, this stuff wasn't embarrassing, it was very clinical. She decided to think of it like that.

"Well, I should start my period in a week," she said through clenched teeth. She didn't want to make this more than a simple response, but her face betrayed her.

"Hm. You may be ovulating," Sherlock murmured, narrowing his eyes as he drove. "That may be a problem."

"No shit, Sherlock," Tabitha murmured. She snorted a laugh, and he looked at her confused. "Nevermind – it's a joke from my universe."

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Mary was long gone when Sherlock and Tabitha entered the flat. Mrs. Hudson was grateful her car was in one piece, and treated them by making the boys some tea and Tabitha some hot chocolate. John looked happy, and Sherlock made a quip about John's sexual relationship, only to have a book thrown at his head. Tabitha chuckled and Mrs. Hudson scolded both the boys about their manners as she fluttered out of the flat.

"How old are you guys, anyway?" Tabitha said jokingly, but was suddenly curious. "Seriously, though, how old are you guys?"

"Shouldn't your show have told you that?" Sherlock said, rolling his eyes as he fiddled with some equipment at the kitchen table. John looked up from his laptop at his desk. Tabitha glared at Sherlock.

"I'm 40, Sherlock is 32. What show?"

"Remember when I told you I was watching Sherlock? In the hospital?" John turned his swivel chair around to face her, who was lounging on the couch. He nodded suspiciously. She swallowed and looked over at Sherlock. He didn't seem to even know they were talking. "It's true. I already told Sherlock." John sighed and turned back to his computer.

"Tabitha, your mind is substituting the memories you lost with the ones that you have," he murmured, going back to typing.

"Sherlock, tell him!" Sherlock just grunted. Tabitha groaned in annoyance. "John, it's true. I know things that normal people wouldn't know about Sherlock. About _you_. I know what you said to Sherlock's gravestone three years ago!" His hands paused. Sherlock glanced over at the pair, watching them intently.

"You could have been watching. There were many trees to hide behind," he turned back to her, irritation on his face. "Sherlock did!"

"I was so alone," she quoted. "I owe you so much." John stared at her, his mouth dropping open. She rushed on with another portion of the monologue from the television show. "One more thing, one more miracle, Sherlock. Don't be dead."

Sherlock had stopped what he was doing, and leaned back a bit in the chair. Tabitha watched John's face patiently, hoping that he would believe her. Or, at least accept it as a possibility just as Sherlock had. The doctor turned to his best friend, his mouth still open.

"She has done it to me, as well," Sherlock said softly, immediately going back to his work. There was a knock on the door, and Tabitha took the opportunity to jump up and answer it. John huffed a loud sigh and hurriedly quickly to Sherlock. Tabitha smiled at the officer in front of her as Sherlock and John argued in hushed tones. Of course they were talking about her, and her 'head problem'.

She thanked the young officer with a wink, causing the man to blush and stuttered a reply. She shut the door and walked straight to Sherlock.

"Did you ever open the package from earlier?" she asked as he took the samples that Lestrade has sent and carefully organized those in a way only Sherlock understood.

"What package?" he murmured, eyes on the evidence.

"It was for me," John answered Tabitha. "My sister sent me some documents I need for work."

"Oh," she stated. She bit her lip nervously, watching him typing furiously on his laptop. She took her place back on the couch and picked up her last book. She didn't read as she thought about the last week and a half.

Spending time with the fame detective and his doctor was something she had thought about since she saw the show. What she didn't expect was to have the fear of being pregnant by the handsome and logical consultant detective. She was in an alternate universe – could she get pregnant? Everything else was real, so she deduced that she could. She felt guilty, though, about it. T.J. and she had wanted to have children, but they never had the time for it to happen. Having a child with a fictional man was not in the plans!

John's watch beeped, and he jumped up.

"I need to get ready for work. I'm working the night shift tonight," he murmured, heading back to his room. Tabitha looked up from her book and watched him.

"What were you guys arguing about as I answered the door?" she asked Sherlock as she stood up, placing the book on the coffee table. She walked over and took a chair next to Sherlock. He kept his eyes focused on the chemical he was mixing with the samples.

"He cannot believe your story. He is convinced that someone is paying you to watch us," he answered. Tabitha's chest tightened.

"Do you?" she whispered.

"No," he answered softly. He continued his work for a few more seconds and then turned his head to her. "As impossible as your story sounds, I am inclined to believe what you say. You have always told the truth, and have done nothing to betray my trust."

Tabitha smiled, relieved that he felt that way. She thought about Mycroft, the deal she had made with him, but Sherlock already knew about that. He seemed okay with the idea. Sherlock stared at her for a moment and then turned back to his work. Tabitha watched him as he mixed chemicals with the samples, looked at them under a microscope, and stood up to pace for a few moments. He sat back down and begun to toy with the samples some more.

"Did I tell you about the weird letter I got yesterday?" Sherlock's head popped up. "I'll take that as a no…"

"What letter? Why didn't you tell me this sooner?" They both jumped up and Tabitha hurried to the side table, fishing it out from under a pile of papers. She held out the aged envelope and letter, handing to him. He narrowed his eyes as he held it close to his face, turning it over, and studying it.

"Don't you have to work with the samples?" she asked, glancing over his shoulder.

"Nah, the machine needs to take a few minutes to gather data," he murmured. He moved to his chair and sat down, his eyes always on the paper. "Do you know this doctor?"

"Not at all," she answered, taking a seat in the chair across from him.

"It seems this doctor and the TARDIS, whoever they are, is responsible for you being here," he said. He went to his laptop at his desk, sat down, and begun to type. Tabitha figured he must be searching for what the TARDIS was, among other things.

Her mobile decided to ring at that moment, and since Sherlock was busy with two cases at the moment, she didn't feel guilty about heading to Sherlock's bedroom and taking the call.

"Mycroft, it's only been a few days since you and I last spoke," she said.

"I see there have been… let's say, developments, in my brother's life," Mycroft said cryptically. It was easy for Tabitha to guess what he was talking about.

"Who your brother does or does not have sex with is none of your business." She tried her best to keep annoyance out of her tone of voice, but Mycroft immediately picked up on it.

"It does if it involves your safety, as well as my brother's."

"How does me being involved with him physically make him unsafe?"

"Love, my girl. Love is a dangerous game, for both of you. You can disappear at any moment, and my brother with a broken heart may be dangerous to everyone else."

"Trust me, your brother does not love me. He respects and cares for me, but he would never let himself fall in love with someone." Did Sherlock care for her? Tabitha had a feeling that he did, at least a little bit. Unfortunately, she knew Mycroft was right. Love is a dangerous thing when it came to Sherlock, and her universe hopping. She had no idea when she'd disappear. "Hey, do you _watch_ us have sex?" Tabitha added with a sudden panic in her chest.

"For god's sakes, no! All the cameras are off when people absolutely need their privacy!" Mycroft cried.

"I knew you had cameras around here," Tabitha chuckled. She turned her tone back to serious. "Is that all, Mycroft?"

"It seems so." The phone clicked off.

Tabitha wondered back into the living room, seeing Sherlock back to studying the samples in the case he was working. Her letter was laying on the kitchen counter, seeming to be ignored.

"Are you done with this?"

"No. I'll be running tests on it after this case is solved. As soon as I do this experiment, I should know the cause of death and who did it."

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The Doctor held tightly as the TARDIS bounced around the time vortex, trying it's best to break through the shield into the other universe. He cried out in frustration as sparks flew up next to him. He rushed around the console to push buttons, and turn a wheel.

"Come on, you did it with the girl! You can do it!"

The TARDIS pulsated loudly, pushing itself to its limit. The Doctor was flung across the room, hitting the wall, as the TARDIS broke into the world of Sherlock. It flew through the vortex, then popped out, appearing in a park. It took a moment for the blue box to completely land, its familiar noise sounding like sharp intakes of breath.

The Doctor moaned as he pulled himself up. He shook his head, throwing out the headache. Sparks flew around the console room, and the Doctor gently stroked the wall.

"Good job. Take a break while I search for Tabitha."

He hopped to the console, pressed the buttons to make it disappear, and opened the doors. It looked just like London from his universe, but he knew it was different. Sherlock Holmes and John Watson were here, alive and real.

00000000000000000000000000000000

Tabitha slept in Sherlock's room, with Sherlock curled into a fetal position next to her, asleep himself. They hadn't done anything physical, but while he was sleeping Tabitha had watched his angelic face. She had fallen in love with him from the television show, but seeing him in front of her, spending the last two weeks with him, had pushed her over the edge. She had fallen asleep trying her best not to cry.

All three tenants of 221B woke up to banging on the front door. Tabitha and Sherlock rushed to the living room, with John rubbing his eyes sleepily as he hurried behind them. They all expected it to be Mrs. Hudson in trouble, but when they opened the door they were met with a surprisingly chipper and excited man.

"Sherlock Holmes! It's a pleasure to meet you!" he cried, pushing past them, and then spinning around. The man was dressed in brown trousers, suspenders, a white button up shirt, and a bright red bow tie around his throat. His brown hair was a bit messy, and he couldn't seem to stand still.


	11. the TARDIS, the Queen, and Jack Harkness

_**The Doctor meets everyone! This one is longer than usual because I wanted to add the last bit into it. I'm going to try and make each chapter more than 2400 words. I've been posting 2000 to 2300 word chapters, but wince I am around 7000 words ahead in writing, i figure it's okay to make it longer! Thanks for the lovely reviews and follows and favorites!**_

_**Sorry I haven't updated in a while. I'm working basically EVERY DAY OF THE WEEK in the afternoon and I'm burnt out. I'm working on this story today, though!**_

_**Oh, does anyone know Anderson's first name? If it's not mentioned AT ALL then I'll just make one up. Anyone have suggestions?**_

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**CHAPTER 11 - the TARDIS, the Queen, and Jack Harkness**

He took Sherlock's hand in a fast shake, and Sherlock gave an annoyed look at the man. John watched silently, most likely trying his best get rid of the cobwebs of sleep in his head. Tabitha yawned, watching the scene with interest. She had slept in her jeans and t-shirt last night, but she ignored it as she watched the scene unfold.

"Who are you?" Sherlock asked, pulling away and taking a seat in his chair. "Client? What do you need?"

"What? Oh, no, I'm not – Oh, Dr. John Watson!" the man spun immediately to the man he was speaking about, shaking his hand quickly and putting his hands on his shoulders. "You're quite shorter than I imagine"

"What?" John asked, finally getting a voice. Before he could go on, though, the man spun around to Tabitha. She raised an eyebrow as he come up to her, holding her shoulders and looking her up and down.

"Leave her alone, she's not available," Sherlock suddenly growled, stepping in between Tabitha and the man. Sherlock looked threateningly down at the man, whose eyes had grown wide.

"No no no no!" he cried, shaking his hands in denial. "I was making sure she was alright. Are you alright?" he peaked around Sherlock's shoulders at Tabitha. She was busy staring at the back of Sherlock's head. What was that all about? John was doing the same, confusion and worry on his face. "You are Tabitha, aren't you? Hello, I'm the Doctor!"

Sherlock and Tabitha's eyes registered recognition at the name, but John looked more confused than ever.

"You're the Doctor? Doctor of what? Who is TARDIS? Why is Tabitha here?" It was his turn to grab the Doctor's shoulders, staring straight into his eyes, searching his face for any clues.

"Just the Doctor!" the man said lightly, pulling away.

"What is going on?!" John yelled out, making everyone turn to him. He was still in his t-shirt and pajama pants, his hair wild from tossing and turning in his sleep, and he looked rather irritated. "Is this the man who brought Tabitha here? Arrest him for kidnapping!"

"Oh, no, I didn't kidnap her! My TARDIS did! Well, kind of, see, she decided to play a joke and send her here and – "

"TARDIS is a woman?" Tabitha asked curiously.

"This man sent Tabitha a letter, which was actually written on paper from 100 years ago, saying that he and his people, TARDIS, were responsible for her ending up here. Where is the paper from? Tell me the name of this TARDIS organization." Sherlock stalked toward the Doctor, set on his prey.

"Whoa, Sherlock, John, you –" Tabitha pointed at the Doctor – "Knock it off! I went through my television. It's not something simple as kidnapping me on an airplane!" Everyone shut their mouths as Tabitha moved to the middle of the triangle of men. She put her hands on her hips and turned slowly, facing each man for a second. "Get a seat. Let him tell us what is going on."

John did as she said, rubbing his forehead. The Doctor plopped down on the couch, patting his hands on his knees and looking around the room with curiosity and elation. Sherlock made a comment about getting dressed, and went to change out of his pajamas. Tabitha took a seat next to the Doctor, sitting at an angle to be able to see the man.

"First off, what do we call you? Doctor…?" She asked softly. Inside, she was screaming with excitement. She was finally getting answers! On the other hand, panic had popped into her consciousness – this man was the cause for her being here. He would be the one who would take her back home. The thought made her depressed, in all honesty.

She loved her life in her own universe, but there was nothing for her there. She didn't have close family, her husband was gone, and she was on her own. Here, though, she had her favorite characters, her favorite _people_.

"Just the Doctor," he answered with a smile. He looked young.

"How old are you?" she asked out of the blue.

"1200 years old," he grinned. "Now, the story –"

"You are deranged. We should call Lestrade," John commented, making a move to stand up.

"You have a roommate that came from another universe. Shut up and sit down," Tabitha demanded. She was tired of everyone talking or interrupting. John sent her a look of disapproval as he moved back to get comfortable. Sherlock came out in black pants and a purple button up shirt. Tabitha took a moment to appreciate how well it fit him.

"Now, talk," Sherlock demanded, standing in front of the window with his hands in pockets. His eyes were focused, and everyone knew he was deducing even now.

"Right! Well," the Doctor started, using his hands animatedly as he began to tell his story. "Myself, I'll make the story short. I'm a Time Lord, an alien with two hearts, who travels through time and space, and every now and then, parallel universes. Although, that is not recommended because that could tear time and space apart, obviously from all the stuff that has happened in the past –"

"Doctor." Sherlock spoke with an inpatient voice.

"Oh! Yes, back on track. That's the easy story of me. With Tabitha –" He gestured to her. "My TARDIS decided to play a little trick and send her here. To this universe. Of Sherlock. Oh, I love the show! Sherlock, brilliant!" He started to ramble about the show while the three of them stared at him. He blushed when he realized he was off track again, and moved back to the topic.

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Sherlock wanted to throw the man out if he didn't shut up. The man looked young, but his eyes and attitude made it obvious that he had seen a lot of horrors and marvels. His accent sounded like he was from London, but a slight twinge in his voice was from a place he couldn't identify. The Doctor seemed open and honest, but the claim of being a 1200 year old alien made him think there may be some mental illness contributing to his thoughts. He clinched his teeth as the man slowly wound back to the topic.

"TARDIS – Time And Relative Dimensions In Space – my space ship and time travel box, as it were. I had just dropped off my last companion, and was on my own, trying to figure out what adventure to take next. I thought about visiting Queen Elizabeth, but then I remembered that whatever made her so upset with me hadn't happen yet, so that was out of the question. I thought about going to find Jack Harkness and having a boys day out, except with clothing, because we all know how Jack is, always spouting out some sexual innuendo… well, you don't, anyway –"

"You know the Queen?" John almost shouted, his eyes as wide as saucers. Tabitha raised her eyebrows with an entertained smile, while Sherlock kept staring. This man was telling the completely truth – or what he perceived as the truth. If he didn't believe Tabitha's story, he would never believe this story. As it happens, with Tabitha's unbelievable story, he couldn't discount the Doctor's story, as mad as it was.

"Ah, a few hundred years ago. Let me tell you, the virginal queen is a misnomer –" John gasped and Tabitha burst out laughing. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Oh, please, just tell us how Tabitha got here!" He growled, patience running out.

"Right! Sorry, right!" The Doctor shook his head, seeming to get his thoughts straight. "The TARDIS decided to take matters into her own hand. You see, she has her own mind. Honestly, I don't know why she picked you, Tabitha, and you Sherlock, but apparently she did. We crash landed in Tabitha's back yard – it might have contributed to the power outage – and a wave of energy knocked me down just after I knocked on your door."

"That was you!" Tabitha realized, using a hand to point at him. The Doctor grinned and nodded.

"Yes! Yes, yes. Well, I was knocked into the bushes, and when Tabitha looked out the door, another wave went through, and it brought you here!" The Doctor's bright eyes were looking at the other people in the room, and his mouth was open in a wide grin. His hands were thrown out in amazement. "There you go! That's what happened!"

"You expect me to believe that," John said, his voice deadpan.

"Doctor, I am a man of deduction and logic. Ordinarily, I'd throw you out, but after Tabitha convinced me of her story, I am inclined to take a second look at yours," Sherlock admitted, taking a seat regally in his own chair. His hands moved under his chin, together, and he looked at the man across the room. Tabitha smiled, and Sherlock knew that she had accepted the story immediately. John, on the other hand, looked like he wanted to send this man to the nearest mental hospital.

"Sherlock, are you serious?" John exclaimed, waving his arm around. "Her story is mad, his story is impossibly outrageous!"

"What other explanations do you have, John?" Sherlock cried, turning his head sharply to his friend. The Doctor and Tabitha watched wide-eyed as the two men stared at each other heatedly. "Think about all the facts, all the evidence!"

"But – but – this is not possible!" John sputtered.

"But not impossible," the Doctor quipped.

"Precisely," Sherlock agreed smugly.

"Fine. Fine! Let's just pretend this is all true. What now? How does Tabitha get back?"

Sherlock's mind suddenly went fuzzy. He glanced over at the women who had been an annoying distraction for two weeks, and felt nauseated. His eyes narrowed, quickly going through the reasons why he'd be feeling sick. He felt fine in a general sense. He didn't have a temperature, he had been eating regularly thanks to the female in their flat, and he'd been particularly clever with the last few cases.

"Oh, it will be a few days. The old girl has to repair the damage caused from crossing dimensions," the Doctor popped up, with three pairs of eyes watching him, and started to roam around the room, excitedly touching and prodding the different things on the shelves and tables. He looked like a child in a toy store.

"Stop touching my stuff," Sherlock said gruffly, popping up and taking his skull from the Doctor's hands. The Doctor chuckled and apologized as he turned toward the kitchen and fluttered around the equipment on the table. He was murmuring about science experiments in the 51st century. "Stop doing that!" he cried, moving to stand between the Doctor and the table.

"So sorry!" the Doctor exclaimed. "I'm just so excited. It's not every day that you get to meet one of the famous fictional detectives in the flesh!"

"You know what? I need a break from this. I'm going to be with Mary. For the next three days. That's until Sunday, so you'll have to deal with this mad case on your own," John rambled, quickly pulling himself up. He looked like he wanted to get away immediately, but took the time to pack some things from his room.

Tabitha raised an eyebrow as the men shuffled around the flat, one packing and muttering angrily, and the other two playing a game of keep away, with Sherlock pulling things out of the Doctor's hand every time he picked something up.

"Doctor, why don't you show Sherlock and me this TARDIS?" she suggested, standing up herself. Sherlock immediately turned to watch Tabitha head toward the bedroom. "I'll just change."

"No," he commanded. The Doctor and Tabitha were confused and looked at the man. He was standing tall and intense.

"No what?" Tabitha asked.

"No, you are not going to see this TARDIS. You can't leave," Sherlock said.

"Why not?" the Doctor asked, sounding actually curious. Tabitha's face turned into an angry scowl.

"What do you mean I can't leave?" Tabitha put her hands on her hips as John came out with a suitcase. He was talking on the phone with Mary, and only took a moment to glance back at the three people left in the flat. He huffed and left. Sherlock and Tabitha faced off angrily. The Doctor looked back and forth between them, his mouth flapping open.

"Oh!" he said, his bring finally clicking. "Oh. I see, I see."

"You see what?" Tabitha cried, turning her angry eyes onto the Doctor. He stepped back a moment before continuing.

"Oh, this is not good," he murmured softly, clasping his hands together. Sherlock narrowed his eyes suspiciously. The Doctor jumped a bit and started talking again. "These… these feelings won't work, both of you. Sherlock, you aren't real, Tabitha, you don't belong here –"

"There are no feelings between us!" Sherlock growled, stomping toward the bedroom. He slammed the door behind him and moved to the window, his teeth grinding against one another. He had realized exactly why he was feeling like this as soon as the Doctor mentioned feelings.

He had feelings for Tabitha. He thought about her leaving, and it made him want to grab her and lock her in his room. That particular thought made him growl and want to start smoking. He ransacked his room, looking for a pack, but instead slapped on four nicotine patches. That woman was annoying, beautiful, loud, intelligent, mad, clever, and she always believed him. Even John had his doubts at times, but Tabitha? Never.

Knocking at his door made his mind come back from infuriated thoughts.

"What?" he shouted, pulling the door open. Tabitha's mouth opened slightly, worry on his face. He narrowed his eyes at her, his body responding to his attraction to her. He swallowed, and wasn't sure what to do now.

"Sherlock… why can't I go?" Her voice was soft, a bit hesitant, and he knew that she was nervous about the answer. He pressed his lips together, and didn't say anything. She visibly swallowed and took a slow step toward him. His pulse raced, and his breathing became a bit erratic. His hand stayed on the door, while the other pressed against the door frame. Her hands came up to grip the color of his purple shirt, and she stood on her tiptoes, bring her mouth softly to his.

This was the softest kiss they had ever shared. His body was stiff. He didn't want to admit that he liked it. Her lips moved over his, a passionate kiss, no invading tongue, no fighting each other. Just brushing of lips. Sherlock's stomach quivered, and he squeezed the door and door frame with his hands. She pulled away, looking into his eyes. "Sherlock?"

"You may be pregnant. You can't leave until we know."

It was a valid reason, but not the whole reason. He shoved that thought deep into his palace and forced his body to ignore his reaction to her tender kiss. Her breath caught, her face flushed, and she pulled away, clearing her throat. The Doctor watched them from the end of the hall.

"Okay. That is a turn of events," he said, wringing his hands. Tabitha turned toward the Doctor and Sherlock stepped out of the room.


	12. Let's Test This Theory

_**I'm having a bit of a writer's block at the moment, but I will keep updating twice a week at least. Good thing I'm ahead of writing, eh?**_

* * *

**CHAPTER 12 - Let's Test This Theory**

"Why do you have four patches?" Tabitha asked, a bit amused, as they walked back into the living room.

"You," Sherlock answered.

"Sherlock, Tabitha, since you, well, uh… well, since you could be…with child, you should, we should, you know, stay here." The Doctor got the words out eventually. Tabitha glanced at Sherlock, whose face was blank.

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The Doctor watched the two exchange a glance, both of their eyes filled with untold words that neither wanted to admit. It made him feel a bit apprehensive, Tabitha and the fictional Sherlock Holmes engaged in a physical relationship. She didn't belong in this world, and Sherlock definitely could not go back to her universe.

"Right now," the Doctor started, watching Sherlock go back to his experiments on the table. He took out his phone and started texting. Tabitha didn't even glance at him as she started to make herself a simple breakfast of cereal and milk. "Right now, Tabitha, your universe is a bit off balance. The people you are close to have noticed you being gone. I did you a favor and told them that you were off on a trip, a holiday, for a week or two."

"The only people who would notice would be the people at my bookstore," she answered, walking into the couch and plopping down with a bowl and spoon. She started taking bites as she watched the man who called himself an alien stand in the middle of the room.

"Yes, but it's still making an effect on the balance of the universes!" he cried, throwing his hands up in annoyance. He paced the length of the room, moving back and forth. "You are not supposed to be here, and now there is an unborn child involved!"

"Whoa, what?"

All three people turned to see John walk in with a bewildered Mary standing beside him. Sherlock clenched his jaw and turned back to his phone. Tabitha's face flushed and she sat down her empty cereal bowl on the coffee table. The Doctor took a deep breath and noticed the small woman by the Doctor Watson.

"Oh, you must be Mary! We haven't seen you yet on the show!" he cried gleefully, running up and shaking her hand. Her widened eyes turned to John, confused.

"Shut up, Doctor," John growled.

"What is going on? Who are you?" Mary asked, her delicate brows furrowed. She stepped close to John as the Doctor took a step back with a bashful look on his face.

"I'm sorry. My name is the Doctor. I'm a traveler. I'm here because –"

"He's a client, Mary. How has your morning been? I thought you both were going away for the weekend?" Sherlock interrupted, standing up and walking over to the couple. Tabitha raised her eyebrows and the Doctor watched quietly, leaning against the far wall.

"It's been fine, thank you, Sherlock," she said, eyeing him suspiciously. Mary knew that Sherlock was never nice to her unless something was important was happening. John sent Sherlock a warning glance, and made his way to his bedroom. He gave the Doctor the same look as he passed. "John forgot his wallet in his room."

"I figured he left it on purpose," Sherlock murmured, his eyebrows furrowed. "Well, Tabitha, Doctor, we have a mystery to solve!" He quickly located his scarf and coat. Tabitha jumped up quickly and found her own jacket, deciding her clothing from yesterday looked just fine. The Doctor crowded near them by the door as Tabitha slipped on black flats onto her feet.

"Now, what a minute, Sherlock! The Doctor was talking about a child. What child?" John called, coming into the room again.

"Oh, goodness, you're pregnant?" Mary exclaimed, gasping and grinning, grabbing Tabitha by the shoulders. Sherlock's face went pale, and he violently put the scarf around his neck.

"Oh, Jesus!" John huffed, a horrified and surprised look on his face. "You are definitely not father material. How do you know? It's only been two weeks!"

"We don't know!" Tabitha cried, gently pushing Mary's hand away.

"When we find out that Tabitha is not pregnant, then the Doctor will take her back home, where she belongs," Sherlock stated flatly, pulling the door open with force. "Doctor, Tabitha, we are leaving!" Tabitha sent a weak smile to John and Mary, and the Doctor waved enthusiastically as the group left.

John and Mary watched wide-eyed as the door closed.

"John, there is something you aren't telling me about Tabitha, isn't there?" Mary stated, sending a curious glance to her boyfriend. John looked guilty. "John, I'm not upset, you don't have to tell me, but if you want to talk, _talk to me_."

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The car ride to the park where the Doctor had stashed his spaceship was quiet, except the Doctor exclaiming every now and then over a sight outside the window. It made Tabitha smile, but then she'd look over at Sherlock, with his scowl and intense gaze out the window, and sadness would take over. Sherlock had been, for lack of a better word, cold since they faced the fact that she could be expecting. She had another month, at least, before she would know if she was with child.

The next few weeks would be a trying time for her patience and feelings. She didn't know if she could go back to being just a distraction to Sherlock. After that thought, the Doctor called for the cabbie to stop, and they pulled themselves out. Tabitha paid the cabbie as the two men crossed the street. She jogged to catch up to them. They walked for a few moments.

"Oh, this is so exciting. I'm going to have to search out Detective Inspector Lestrade – he's a brilliant detective! Oh, and Molly Hooper, she is such a beautiful woman," the Doctor gushed, a sigh coming out. Tabitha snorted as she realized the Doctor had a little crush on the woman. He went on rambling about the different characters, using his hands to speak. Sherlock grunted and made one-worded comments with his hands in his pockets. Tabitha just followed, listening. "Ah, here we are!" The Doctor threw his arms around, displaying the space between two huge trees.

"Your spaceship is invisible?" Sherlock huffed, a smug look on his face.

"Shush!" Tabitha said, poking him in the arm. He sent her an irate glance.

"Oh! Yes, hold on, just a moment!" The Doctor felt around in the air for a moment, looking like a mime who had lost his box. Suddenly, movement through the air showed the air sliding open to show a metallic room, with a huge console in the middle. Lights were flashing, it started to hum, and Tabitha felt a rumble through her body as the Doctor jumped inside.

"Sherlock, do you see what I see?" she breathed, grabbing into his elbow. Her blue eyes were wide with wonder, and she felt Sherlock's body stiffen with surprise himself.

"I see… Yes, I do think I see what you see," he murmured, not quite sure if he wanted to admit anything at the moment.

"Oh, wait, let me pull down the shields!" the Doctor called out from inside. He fluttered around the console, pushing and pulling buttons and levers, and turning knobs. A whir came from the light in the middle, and the wind rushed around them. Tabitha's mouth opened as her eyes moved around, watching the leaves ruffle in the breeze. Sherlock's eyes stayed on the invisible door that opened into the huge, futuristic room.

A unique-colored blue started to appear out of thin air. The shape of an old police box came into view, and Tabitha squeezed Sherlock's elbow. Her mouth turned into a wide grin, and she turned her head to look at Sherlock. She expected him to be steely face, like it always was, but she was pleasantly surprised when his eyes were wide and his jaw had dropped a bit.

"Welcome to the TARDIS! Come in, come in, before anyone sees!" The Doctor waved them in, twirling around the console room with his hands spread out. Sherlock furrowed his eyebrows, his stone face back in place, as Tabitha tugged at his arm.

"Sherlock, come on!"

"I am going to observe the outside," he murmured. Tabitha let him go and watched him walk around the small police box. Tabitha blinked as she stepped to the side, seeing the back of the box. She stepped back towards the door, and looked into the never-ending room in front of her. Sherlock came around the other side, then turned around and went back the other way.

"Sherlock," Tabitha whispered, her mind spinning with the amazing scene in front of her. She watched the detective poke and study the wood. She sighed, rolled her eyes, and waved him away. Tabitha stepped lightly into the room, and felt the hum of the TARDIS surrounding her. She grinned and looked up, spinning around a few times. "Oh, Doctor, this is amazing!"

"Go ahead, say it…" the Doctor answered gleefully, an expectant look in his eyes.

"It's smaller on the outside." Sherlock's voice boomed around the console room as he stepped in. The Doctor blinked at him, and murmured something about being the second person to have that reaction in all the space and time he had been traveling.

"It's bigger on the inside!" Tabitha cried excitedly. She stepped up to the console, and took in the multiple things in her view. Sherlock stepped next to her, and they both jumped as the door banged shut behind them. The box whirred happily, and Tabitha looked at the light in the middle of the console. Was this TARDIS alive?

"It's some sort of entity," Sherlock murmured, his hands in his pockets and his eyes squinting at the light. The Doctor grinned and came up to the tall man. He put a hand on Sherlock's shoulder and used his hands to speak.

"I've met her once, a while ago. She's pretty sassy," he chuckled, squeezing Sherlock's shoulder good-naturedly.

"Hm," Sherlock grunted. Tabitha rolled her eyes.

"Come on, Sherlock, this is freaking amazing!" she cried, grinned and chuckling at him. She walked around the room, running her hands over the rails and walls when she could. She looked up the staircase that lead to a hallway. "Where does this go?"

"Well, technically everywhere. The TARDIS has infinite numbers of rooms," the Doctor answered. He pulled out a long object and played around with it as Tabitha stepped next to Sherlock. She brushed her elbow against his, liking the feel of his presence, but he didn't seem notice her.

"Infinite? Let's test this theory!" Sherlock suddenly cried, a sly grin on his face. Tabitha and the Doctor watched him run up the stairs and down the hallway.

"He'll be entertained for a while, yes?" Tabitha commented to the Doctor. The man grinned excitedly.

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Mycroft sat staring down at his phone at his desk. He had seen everything that had happened at his brother's before the man they called the Doctor had whisked the girl and Sherlock away. John and Mary had decided on a late lunch, and Mycroft had stopped watching them. They were a typical couple, and since Tabitha had come around, John hadn't done as much adventuring.

This man, though, the Doctor as he called himself, was a mystery, just as Tabitha Hunter was. He had heard his story, and as impossible as it seemed, it was something he had to keep in mind. He would use his contacts to get what information he could – there were words about a Doctor in classified papers. It would be easy for him to get a hold of the important parts of those.

His biggest worry, though, was the pregnancy. If the story of the strange woman and man were true, than his brother was in for an emotional upheaval. Sherlock wouldn't admit it, but he was smitten with the girl. Mycroft acknowledged to himself that he liked her, as well. She was clever for her age, and had been through more events than a general woman of her age had been through.

He looked over at the stack of documents confirming the assassins that were sent to kill her. This had turned personal – this woman could be carrying his niece or nephew. This woman was someone that he approved of Sherlock being with. Some people may call him cold, but he did care about his family, more so than it would seem. His mother would not be happy if anything happened to them, as well.

Mycroft picked up his phone to contact his brother. After a few rings, he heard heavy breathing.

"What is it, Mycroft?"

"Your girlfriend is being targeted by assassins. I'm not sure who hired them or why, but they're there."

"I think we'll be safe at the moment." There was a click and a ring tone sounded in his ear. Mycroft quickly tracked his brother's phone, and saw that they couldn't be pinpointed. He stiffened, leaning close to his computer, wondering if his brother had finally gotten around to messing with the tracking device. He had never had a problem with it before – what was going on?

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"Why do you have four patches?" Tabitha asked, a bit amused, as they walked back into the living room.

"You," Sherlock answered.

"Sherlock, Tabitha, since you, well, uh… well, since you could be…with child, you should, we should, you know, stay here." The Doctor got the words out eventually. Tabitha glanced at Sherlock, whose face was blank.

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The Doctor watched the two exchange a glance, both of their eyes filled with untold words that neither wanted to admit. It made him feel a bit apprehensive, Tabitha and the fictional Sherlock Holmes engaged in a physical relationship. She didn't belong in this world, and Sherlock definitely could not go back to her universe.

"Right now," the Doctor started, watching Sherlock go back to his experiments on the table. He took out his phone and started texting. Tabitha didn't even glance at him as she started to make herself a simple breakfast of cereal and milk. "Right now, Tabitha, your universe is a bit off balance. The people you are close to have noticed you being gone. I did you a favor and told them that you were off on a trip, a holiday, for a week or two."

"The only people who would notice would be the people at my bookstore," she answered, walking into the couch and plopping down with a bowl and spoon. She started taking bites as she watched the man who called himself an alien stand in the middle of the room.

"Yes, but it's still making an effect on the balance of the universes!" he cried, throwing his hands up in annoyance. He paced the length of the room, moving back and forth. "You are not supposed to be here, and now there is an unborn child involved!"

"Whoa, what?"

All three people turned to see John walk in with a bewildered Mary standing beside him. Sherlock clenched his jaw and turned back to his phone. Tabitha's face flushed and she sat down her empty cereal bowl on the coffee table. The Doctor took a deep breath and noticed the small woman by the Doctor Watson.

"Oh, you must be Mary! We haven't seen you yet on the show!" he cried gleefully, running up and shaking her hand. Her widened eyes turned to John, confused.

"Shut up, Doctor," John growled.

"What is going on? Who are you?" Mary asked, her delicate brows furrowed. She stepped close to John as the Doctor took a step back with a bashful look on his face.

"I'm sorry. My name is the Doctor. I'm a traveler. I'm here because –"

"He's a client, Mary. How has your morning been? I thought you both were going away for the weekend?" Sherlock interrupted, standing up and walking over to the couple. Tabitha raised her eyebrows and the Doctor watched quietly, leaning against the far wall.

"It's been fine, thank you, Sherlock," she said, eyeing him suspiciously. Mary knew that Sherlock was never nice to her unless something was important was happening. John sent Sherlock a warning glance, and made his way to his bedroom. He gave the Doctor the same look as he passed. "John forgot his wallet in his room."

"I figured he left it on purpose," Sherlock murmured, his eyebrows furrowed. "Well, Tabitha, Doctor, we have a mystery to solve!" He quickly located his scarf and coat. Tabitha jumped up quickly and found her own jacket, deciding her clothing from yesterday looked just fine. The Doctor crowded near them by the door as Tabitha slipped on black flats onto her feet.

"Now, what a minute, Sherlock! The Doctor was talking about a child. What child?" John called, coming into the room again.

"Oh, goodness, you're pregnant?" Mary exclaimed, gasping and grinning, grabbing Tabitha by the shoulders. Sherlock's face went pale, and he violently put the scarf around his neck.

"Oh, Jesus!" John huffed, a horrified and surprised look on his face. "You are definitely not father material. How do you know? It's only been two weeks!"

"We don't know!" Tabitha cried, gently pushing Mary's hand away.

"When we find out that Tabitha is not pregnant, then the Doctor will take her back home, where she belongs," Sherlock stated flatly, pulling the door open with force. "Doctor, Tabitha, we are leaving!" Tabitha sent a weak smile to John and Mary, and the Doctor waved enthusiastically as the group left.

John and Mary watched wide-eyed as the door closed.

"John, there is something you aren't telling me about Tabitha, isn't there?" Mary stated, sending a curious glance to her boyfriend. John looked guilty. "John, I'm not upset, you don't have to tell me, but if you want to talk, _talk to me_."

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The car ride to the park where the Doctor had stashed his spaceship was quiet, except the Doctor exclaiming every now and then over a sight outside the window. It made Tabitha smile, but then she'd look over at Sherlock, with his scowl and intense gaze out the window, and sadness would take over. Sherlock had been, for lack of a better word, cold since they faced the fact that she could be expecting. She had another month, at least, before she would know if she was with child.

The next few weeks would be a trying time for her patience and feelings. She didn't know if she could go back to being just a distraction to Sherlock. After that thought, the Doctor called for the cabbie to stop, and they pulled themselves out. Tabitha paid the cabbie as the two men crossed the street. She jogged to catch up to them. They walked for a few moments.

"Oh, this is so exciting. I'm going to have to search out Detective Inspector Lestrade – he's a brilliant detective! Oh, and Molly Hooper, she is such a beautiful woman," the Doctor gushed, a sigh coming out. Tabitha snorted as she realized the Doctor had a little crush on the woman. He went on rambling about the different characters, using his hands to speak. Sherlock grunted and made one-worded comments with his hands in his pockets. Tabitha just followed, listening. "Ah, here we are!" The Doctor threw his arms around, displaying the space between two huge trees.

"Your spaceship is invisible?" Sherlock huffed, a smug look on his face.

"Shush!" Tabitha said, poking him in the arm. He sent her an irate glance.

"Oh! Yes, hold on, just a moment!" The Doctor felt around in the air for a moment, looking like a mime who had lost his box. Suddenly, movement through the air showed the air sliding open to show a metallic room, with a huge console in the middle. Lights were flashing, it started to hum, and Tabitha felt a rumble through her body as the Doctor jumped inside.

"Sherlock, do you see what I see?" she breathed, grabbing into his elbow. Her blue eyes were wide with wonder, and she felt Sherlock's body stiffen with surprise himself.

"I see… Yes, I do think I see what you see," he murmured, not quite sure if he wanted to admit anything at the moment.

"Oh, wait, let me pull down the shields!" the Doctor called out from inside. He fluttered around the console, pushing and pulling buttons and levers, and turning knobs. A whir came from the light in the middle, and the wind rushed around them. Tabitha's mouth opened as her eyes moved around, watching the leaves ruffle in the breeze. Sherlock's eyes stayed on the invisible door that opened into the huge, futuristic room.

A unique-colored blue started to appear out of thin air. The shape of an old police box came into view, and Tabitha squeezed Sherlock's elbow. Her mouth turned into a wide grin, and she turned her head to look at Sherlock. She expected him to be steely face, like it always was, but she was pleasantly surprised when his eyes were wide and his jaw had dropped a bit.

"Welcome to the TARDIS! Come in, come in, before anyone sees!" The Doctor waved them in, twirling around the console room with his hands spread out. Sherlock furrowed his eyebrows, his stone face back in place, as Tabitha tugged at his arm.

"Sherlock, come on!"

"I am going to observe the outside," he murmured. Tabitha let him go and watched him walk around the small police box. Tabitha blinked as she stepped to the side, seeing the back of the box. She stepped back towards the door, and looked into the never-ending room in front of her. Sherlock came around the other side, then turned around and went back the other way.

"Sherlock," Tabitha whispered, her mind spinning with the amazing scene in front of her. She watched the detective poke and study the wood. She sighed, rolled her eyes, and waved him away. Tabitha stepped lightly into the room, and felt the hum of the TARDIS surrounding her. She grinned and looked up, spinning around a few times. "Oh, Doctor, this is amazing!"

"Go ahead, say it…" the Doctor answered gleefully, an expectant look in his eyes.

"It's smaller on the outside." Sherlock's voice boomed around the console room as he stepped in. The Doctor blinked at him, and murmured something about being the second person to have that reaction in all the space and time he had been traveling.

"It's bigger on the inside!" Tabitha cried excitedly. She stepped up to the console, and took in the multiple things in her view. Sherlock stepped next to her, and they both jumped as the door banged shut behind them. The box whirred happily, and Tabitha looked at the light in the middle of the console. Was this TARDIS alive?

"It's some sort of entity," Sherlock murmured, his hands in his pockets and his eyes squinting at the light. The Doctor grinned and came up to the tall man. He put a hand on Sherlock's shoulder and used his hands to speak.

"I've met her once, a while ago. She's pretty sassy," he chuckled, squeezing Sherlock's shoulder good-naturedly.

"Hm," Sherlock grunted. Tabitha rolled her eyes.

"Come on, Sherlock, this is freaking amazing!" she cried, grinned and chuckling at him. She walked around the room, running her hands over the rails and walls when she could. She looked up the staircase that lead to a hallway. "Where does this go?"

"Well, technically everywhere. The TARDIS has infinite numbers of rooms," the Doctor answered. He pulled out a long object and played around with it as Tabitha stepped next to Sherlock. She brushed her elbow against his, liking the feel of his presence, but he didn't seem notice her.

"Infinite? Let's test this theory!" Sherlock suddenly cried, a sly grin on his face. Tabitha and the Doctor watched him run up the stairs and down the hallway.

"He'll be entertained for a while, yes?" Tabitha commented to the Doctor. The man grinned excitedly.

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Mycroft sat staring down at his phone at his desk. He had seen everything that had happened at his brother's before the man they called the Doctor had whisked the girl and Sherlock away. John and Mary had decided on a late lunch, and Mycroft had stopped watching them. They were a typical couple, and since Tabitha had come around, John hadn't done as much adventuring.

This man, though, the Doctor as he called himself, was a mystery, just as Tabitha Hunter was. He had heard his story, and as impossible as it seemed, it was something he had to keep in mind. He would use his contacts to get what information he could – there were words about a Doctor in classified papers. It would be easy for him to get a hold of the important parts of those.

His biggest worry, though, was the pregnancy. If the story of the strange woman and man were true, than his brother was in for an emotional upheaval. Sherlock wouldn't admit it, but he was smitten with the girl. Mycroft acknowledged to himself that he liked her, as well. She was clever for her age, and had been through more events than a general woman of her age had been through.

He looked over at the stack of documents confirming the assassins that were sent to kill her. This had turned personal – this woman could be carrying his niece or nephew. This woman was someone that he approved of Sherlock being with. Some people may call him cold, but he did care about his family, more so than it would seem. His mother would not be happy if anything happened to them, as well.

Mycroft picked up his phone to contact his brother. After a few rings, he heard heavy breathing.

"What is it, Mycroft?"

"Your girlfriend is being targeted by assassins. I'm not sure who hired them or why, but they're there."

"I think we'll be safe at the moment." There was a click and a ring tone sounded in his ear. Mycroft quickly tracked his brother's phone, and saw that they couldn't be pinpointed. He stiffened, leaning close to his computer, wondering if his brother had finally gotten around to messing with the tracking device. He had never had a problem with it before – what was going on?

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	13. The Sonic Doesn't Lie

_**We find out here if she's really pregnant or not, thanks to the Doctor! I have a bit twist coming up soon. I also have a little scene with Anderson that I LOVE and a scene with Irene that is freaking awesome, if I do say so myself. Thanks for the lovely words and reviews and follows! I know this story is under CROSSOVERS so there isn't as many views as my other stories, but I appreciate it nonetheless!**_

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**CHAPTER 13 - The Sonic Doesn't Lie**

It had been over an hour since Tabitha and Sherlock had discovered the TARDIS. She mentioned she was getting hungry, and Sherlock commented about one of the three kitchens he had found being the second door on the left. Tabitha was amused at the fact that Sherlock was trying his best to look bored, but had spent the last hour running around the TARDIS, never hitting the same room twice. He had liked it, and Sherlock couldn't hide it from Tabitha!

The Doctor chatted about his friend, Clara, who was brilliant at making soufflés. Tabitha walked close to Sherlock, purposefully making her arm touch his. He didn't react, and it was making her disheartened. They had a life-changing issue at the moment, and he was carrying on like she was still his play toy. The Doctor seemed to notice the scowl on her face, and stopped talking as they found the kitchen.

"Oh, do you need to talk? You should talk. Why don't you talk? I'll leave. You stay. And talk!" he mumbled a few more words as he walked out of the kitchen. Sherlock looked confused, and Tabitha sighed.

"Why do we need to talk? Do you have any more information about the assassins after you?" he asked. Tabitha felt nauseous as the mention of assassins.

"What are you talking about? Assassins? No! We need to talk about our future!" she cried. She hopped onto a silver stool next to the silver island in the middle of the silver kitchen. It gleamed cleanly. All the latest gadgets, and some seemingly futuristic ones, were organized throughout the room.

"That was Mycroft when I answered the phone. He says it's confirmed there are assassins after you," Sherlock said, eyeing the room. Tabitha's face went pale, and she wasn't even noticing how uncomfortable Sherlock was acting.

"Please don't leave me," she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. She gripped the metal counter in front of her, stiff and fighting back tears as she sat on the stool. She heard Sherlock shuffle next to her, but kept enough distance so even his coat wouldn't touch her.

"I won't leave you," he murmured, staring ahead at the silver pans hanging above a part of the silver counter. Tabitha sniffled, and a tear rolled down her cheek. Sherlock pressed his lips together tightly, and Tabitha jumped when he felt his arm settle around her waist. It was stiff, but she realized he was trying his best to comfort her.

She leaned against his side, placing her head on his shoulder. His body seemed to relax, but it was clear that he didn't know what to do past this moment. Tabitha sniffled again, and he pulled her tighter against him.

"Please, don't cry," he said, his voice softer and more comforting. She relaxed a bit and wiped tears from her eyes.

"I know you won't let anything happen to me. I trust you. Completely," she stated confidently.

"Good," he murmured. They stayed in that position for a while, the TARDIS whirring around them. They heard the Doctor making noises in the console room. From what he was mumbling, it sounded like he was trying to fix whatever was wrong with his blue box, but it wasn't working very well.

"Sherlock, this is reality. We need to talk about the possibility –"

"I know," he interrupted. He hesitated, and Tabitha was quiet as she let him gather his thoughts. He pulled his arm away, and Tabitha pulled herself back, leaning on the counter with her elbow, her chin in her hand. "You can disappear at any moment, even if the Doctor didn't take you back. That is how you came to be here, an energy wave coming from this device."

"I've decided to stay," she blurted, surprising even herself. Her eyes widened at her confession, and she turned to look off towards the wall, her mind reeling. She was going to stay, even if she wasn't pregnant, even if Sherlock didn't want more than sex from her. She liked this place. "I'm staying. Even if I'm not pregnant. I'm sure the Doctor can whip up some excuse back in my universe as to why I'm not going back."

"Are you sure?" Sherlock asked, turning to face her. She turned her body to face his. Her mouth turned up into a wide grin, emotionally and exciting. His eyes showed a bit of panic at her decision.

"Yes. I know you don't want anything more than sex. I can get a job – there was a help wanted sign in the book store a few blocks from the flat," she commented. She chuckled at her use of the English word 'flat'.

"Of course. Thank you," he answered. Frowning, she turned toward him. Thank you? For not asking him to be responsible for their child if she was pregnant? She opened her mouth to voice her anger, but as interrupted by the TARDIS shaking violently. She fell off the stool into Sherlock, and knocked her head against the counter corner as they fell down.

The last thing she saw was a worried look from Sherlock before her vision went black.

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Sherlock watched as the Doctor scanned Tabitha with his sonic screwdriver. He had looked over the device, and it had stumped him. He vowed to figure out what made it work, but right now, he was worried about the woman lying on the console room floor. When the TARDIS had shuttered, she had been knocked off the stool and hit her head. There was a small bit of blood on her forehead, but the Doctor said it wasn't fatal.

"She's fine, just knocked her head a bit," the Doctor said with a grin. Sherlock scowled at his excited mood, and the Doctor cringed from the look. "Oh, the TARDIS was just getting back to normal. She didn't mean for this to happen. She'll be fine, Sherlock, I promise!" He softened his face to sympathize with Sherlock, using his hand to pat Sherlock's shoulder. "By the way, she is pregnant," he added quickly before jumping up and scurrying away.

"It's only been two weeks, how can you be sure?" Sherlock asked loudly. He heard Tabitha groan and crouched down next to her.

"The sonic doesn't lie," the Doctor shouted from his spot across the room. Sherlock felt his stomach drop as he leaned over Tabitha, who was waking up with a hand to her forehead.

"How did I get out here?" she muttered, scrunching her nose and raising a hand to her forehead. "My head is hurting like hell." She brought her fingers down to see a speck on blood on them. Her face turned pale. "I'm bleeding!"

"I fixed it, don't worry!" the Doctor commented from afar.

"Tabitha, are you alright?" Sherlock asked, his voice low. He put his arm around her shoulders as she sat upright. He took her hand in his and studied her eyes. She sighed softly as she held onto his uncovered hand – it was rare he didn't wear his gloves when around people.

"Yes. What happened?"

"This TARDIS decided to throw you onto the table corner," Sherlock answered with a smirk. "You were knocked out for only a few moments – the Doctor and I brought you in here."

"I think I want to go home," she muttered with a sheepish smile. She turned to the Doctor, who looked at them disappointedly. "I mean here. Our home. 221 B Baker Street."

"Oh, of course!" he said, fumbling with some knobs on the console. He came around to them and helped Sherlock pull Tabitha to a stand position. He smiled, but Sherlock thought it was obvious that he didn't want them to leave. He was most likely lonely, wanting company. It didn't concern him, though.

"Doctor, we will keep in touch. See you in a few weeks." Sherlock took Tabitha's hand and pulled her outside the TARDIS door. The Doctor watched them go, leaning on the console, as the TARDIS seemed to whir sadly around them. It seemed the blue box liked the couple.

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Sherlock was quiet as they took walked back to the flat. Tabitha figured it was because of their predicament, but it could also be the mystery of the TARDIS, the Doctor, and the case he was on at the moment. That reminded her…

"Hey, did you solve the earlier case? The woman with the freckle?"

"Her physician grew tired of her constant appointments, and used her as an unknown participant in a new drug."

"Ah. Did you tell Lestrade?"

"Obviously," he mumbled back to her.

Tabitha took a deep breath and gave an exaggerated nod to his answer. She took out her phone and started to play around with it.

**Sherlock is being weird. He is avoiding talking to me, more so than usual. What do I do**? – to Mycroft.

**Have you told Mary about me? I know it's crazy, but all of it is true. Honestly!** – to John.

**Would you like to have dinner**? – to Irene.

**Would you like to have lunch with me tomorrow? I need a break from the boys.** – to Mrs. Hudson.

**I think it's obvious you won't find anything about me, except what Mycroft Holmes has. Maybe I should just move on?** – to Lestrade.

She got a few answers.

**Are you sure it's more than usual? Get him drunk, it's a laugh** – MH

**I told her tonight. She believes it more than I do. Mad, but you have never lied before** – JW

**Are you hungry?** – IA

**Of course, dear! Oh, did I send this the correct way?** – MH

**Mycroft Holmes – of course he would have something to do with it. Can you come in tomorrow morning to have a chat?** – GL

She felt excitement in her chest – she was speaking with some of her favorite characters. She answered a few: was convinced by John that he had calmed down over her origin, set up a dinner with Irene tomorrow night, agreed to have simple sandwiches with Mrs. Hudson tomorrow, and set up a time to meet with Lestrade tomorrow morning. Tabitha made a mental note to seek out Anderson – she really wanted to have a conversation with the man everyone hated. Just to say she had.

"I suppose we should take our relationship to the next step, considering you are pregnant," Sherlock said out of the blue. Tabitha fumbled with her phone and held it tightly in her hand. She turned her face to look at him, not surprised to see his face void of any emotion.

"How do you know? What step would that be?"

"The Doctor used his sonic screwdriver. I believe he is called the Doctor for a reason," he answered. He took a deep breath and pulled out his own phone. "The next step would be to technically ask your hand in marriage."

"Marriage?" Tabitha squeaked. She flashed back to her marriage four years ago. It had been small, intimate, and the happiest day of her life. She felt a lump in her throat, and swallowed. Sherlock glanced at her just in time to see tears come to her eyes. He looked at her, confused and a bit concerned.

"I don't understand why you look upset," he commented quietly, seeming to want to understand.

"Oh, Sherlock," Tabitha sniffled, wiping her teary eyes and took a deep breath to dislodge the knot in her chest. "I was married once before. It's just very odd to think of marrying someone else. I know I say I'm over T.J.'s death, but in all honesty, I don't think I ever will be."

"He died two years ago," Sherlock said. Tabitha rolled her eyes at him, but wasn't offended at all. She knew this was how Sherlock thought. He put away his phone in his pocket, stopped walking, and turned to face her. She looked up into his face, and took his hands in hers.

"He was my best friend, my lover, and I was making a life with just him. Now that he's gone, I have to start over. Gain another best friend, another lover, and make life with another person. I know you don't fully understand, but it's there," she explained. He looked down at her, concentrating on her words. "If I'm pregnant, we don't need to get married. I just expect you to take equal responsibility with supporting and raising the child."

"Marriage would make it much easier, financially and legally," he pointed out.

"I know. Maybe you're right," she answered, pulling her hands away. They continued walking, just around the corner from their flat. They walked for a moment in silence, and then she spoke up. "I have feelings for you. I don't know if I can be in a marriage with someone who doesn't return the feelings."

There. She had told him her feelings, it was all in the open. Sherlock was quiet as they walked to their door. He opened it for her, his face soft with thought, and walked in behind her. They walked up the stairs, with Mrs. Hudson waving a greeting as they passed her door. When they went into the living room, John and Mary were sitting close on the couch, watching the television. There was a British dramatic romance on it, and Tabitha had no idea what it was.

Mary and John waved a greeting, both smiling, as they walked in. Mary pushed herself up, and took Tabitha's hand.

"Let's go get some tea started while the boys chat, yeah?" Mary pulled the other woman into the kitchen. John had pulled Sherlock down beside him, and started to murmur. Mary and Tabitha worked together to get the kettle started, and then they leaned against the counter, facing each other. "John told me your story. It's unbelievable," she whispered.

"I know. It's true. I don't need to prove it to you," Tabitha whispered back.

"No! You don't. It's so mad, I know it's true. It's amazing. It means you and Sherlock were meant to be together. Fate!" Mary said quietly with excitement. Tabitha had to smile and raised an eyebrow at that. Mary took Tabitha's hands, again.

"Thank you."

"If you're pregnant, you have friends to help you. Sherlock isn't a bad man. He just doesn't know how to work with normal people," she commented with a chuckle. "I may not have known you for a long time, but our boys are Holmes and Watson. We have to stick together."

"I have a feeling I am pregnant. And I trust Sherlock with my life. Completely. He may not be smart in the ways of emotions and relationships, but he does know how to keep someone safe," Tabitha pointed out. Mary nodded in agreement. "He asked me to marry him."

"What?!" John and Mary cried out at the same time.


	14. How Can I Help You, Mate?

_**Quick sexy time! Sex included in this chapter. Mycroft and the Doctor meet. OH SNAP.**_

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**CHAPTER 14 - How Can I Help You, Mate?**

The girls looked around the corner at John staring open mouthed at a very confused Sherlock. The man sent the girl's a hopeless look while John sputtered. The kettle shrieked, and Mary went to work getting the tea made. Tabitha stepped into the living room sheepishly.

"You told him about your marriage idea, didn't you?" she asked a bit sarcastically.

"Yes. I thought that is what would be expected of me, telling my best friend I plan to marry," Sherlock said.

"You've known each other for two weeks!" John finally said, able to make out words. "Look, I get her story, really, but you hardly know each other. Sherlock, I just can't imagine you being in love!"

"Who said anything about love? She is pregnant with my child. It would benefit both of us, and the child, if we were married."

Tabitha's heart dropped at those words. Of course he didn't love her – he was Sherlock Holmes. She cleared her throat just as Mary brought in a tray with four mugs of tea on them. She handed them to each person, and Sherlock sipped his as he moved to take a place at his desk. John and Mary sat next to each other on the couch and Tabitha took another chair. John seemed to know what was going on in her mind.

"Tabitha, he doesn't love," John said, lowering his voice so only him and the two woman could hear. They all glanced at Sherlock, who concentrated on his laptop screen, and knew it wouldn't have mattered.

"He does," she answered with assurance. "He faked his own death to save his best friends. He loves you three."

"Not the kind of love one would have for a partner to marry." John took a sip of his tea, and Mary placed a hand on his elbow as she looked sadly at him before turning to Tabitha.

"I think you're wrong. It may take a brick to the head multiple times, but he _can_ be in love. I know it," she insisted softly. John sighed thoughtfully, looking at her with concern.

"I don't want you getting hurt. What if you go back to… your own universe? You have a job, a house, a paycheck. It's all there, waiting for you."

"Tabitha isn't going back. That's final," Sherlock suddenly interrupted, pushing himself up violently and reaching for his coat. Tabitha sent John a raised eyebrow, and John seemed a bit surprised at his comment. "Come, John, Lestrade has a case for us." He grabbed his scarf and headed out the door. Mary smiled and nodded to her boyfriend.

"Us girls will keep one another company!" she said, waving her hand for him to go.

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"Is she right, Sherlock? Do you love her?" John asked, keeping his eyes looking out the window of the cab. Sherlock scoffed, and let out a chuckle.

"John, you know me better than anyone. I am not capable of love." His smirk was wavering on his face, though. He slipped through some thoughts in his mind. "I do care for her, though. She is... nice company. And although I think children are messy and annoying, I know my responsibilities as a parent."

"I don't think you understand the emotional side of parenting," John chuckled. Sherlock waved that thought off with his hand and a grunt. "Maybe you should tell her you care about her, at least."

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The Doctor was pacing in the console room when the TARDIS started flashing red lights throughout itself. He looked around confused, and then poked his head out the door. The wind ruffled his brown hair, and he frowned at the two big men in suits that were staring back at him. He stepped out, careful to keep them from seeing inside the box.

"How can I help you, mate?" he asked with a grin.

"We need you to follow us." They each took an elbow and pulled-slash-carried the Doctor toward a waiting limo at the entrance of the park.

"You could have just asked me," he grumbled as he was tossed inside the long car. He dusted off his shirt and straightened his bowtie, finding himself eye-to-eye with Mycroft Holmes.

"Oh! Mycroft Holmes! Practically the government, yeah? What can I do for you?" the Doctor put on his friendliest smile, but Mycroft just started at him with a frown.

"You are the Doctor, no?" Mycroft raised an eyebrow and looked at him knowingly.

"In the flesh!" he answered with a flourish of his hands. The car begun to move, the light fading as the sunset. The Doctor ignored the places they passed – Mycroft Holmes would take him back to the TARDIS when they were finished with their conversation.

"I know what you are. I need your help."

"Lovely! Are their aliens on the loose? Trying to blow up London, or take over the world?" the Doctor asked excitedly.

"Not exactly. We think that the people after Tabitha Hunter are time jumpers."

"Time jumpers?" The Doctor went through the list of beings he'd come in contact with, and he couldn't place that particular name.

"Or, you would know them as The Weeping Angels." The Doctor went silent for a moment, a flashback of his time with Rory, Amy, and River. His voice turned dark.

"How could statues be after Tabitha? They don't really target their victims. Usually."

"We think Sebastian Moran, Moriarty's right-hand man, has somehow been using them to take care of people he needs to get rid of."

"Weeping Angels are not easy to control, Mycroft Holmes," the Doctor commented in a lowered voice, leaning forward. Mycroft stayed in his seat, but his eyes turned more focused on the Doctor.

"It's not important how, at the moment. What is important that the mother of my niece or nephew be kept safe," he acknowledged. The Doctor took a deep breath and leaned back.

"Yes," he agreed. He stared out the window, not really seeing the view. "Have there been confirmed cases of Weeping Angel attacks in the area?"

To anyone else, it may seem a very odd question, but the Doctor figured that Mycroft knew an exact answer to the question. He turned to Mycroft just as the man answered.

"No, not this area. In Scotland. They seem to be moving south."

"Seems they are on their way for something," the Doctor murmured.

"How do we kill them?"

"These creatures are not killed, Mrs. Holmes. They are outsmarted," the Doctor answered cryptically. Mycroft narrowed his eyes and used his umbrella to tap on the window behind him into the driver's seat.

"My mistake, Doctor. How do we outsmart them?" he replied with a sarcastic sneer.

"I'll let you know when I get more data," the Doctor quipped, grinning at the fact that he sounded just like Sherlock. Mycroft rolled his eyes as the car pulled to a stop back at the park.

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Mary and Tabitha enjoyed an evening of Disney movie and hot chocolate, with a moment to eat simple spaghetti that Tabitha prepared. The women finally looked at the clock, and looked at each other with a sigh when they realized it was past midnight.

"We should head to bed," Tabitha answered with a yawn and a stretch. Mary rubbed her eyes sleepily and nodded as she yawned loudly. They both stood up and put their mugs in the sink. "You can take John's room if you don't want to drive home."

"Good idea – it's not safe to be on the streets when I'm about to pass out," she chuckled an answer. They said a quick good night and Mary made her way to John's room. Tabitha did the small amount of dishes in the sink, and then made her way to Sherlock's bed room. Just after she changed into one of Sherlock's pajama pants and t-shirts, she heard the door open and shushing sounds in the living room. John was telling Sherlock to keep quiet, and Sherlock seemed to make a point out of stomping down the hall just to irritate the smaller man. Tabitha turned with a grin and her hands over her chest as the door was pushed open.

"You're wearing my clothes," Sherlock stated, staring at her. He was frozen in the door way.

"I'm pregnant with your child, too," Tabitha quipped. She kept a smile on her face as she stepped around the man and closed the door soundly. Sherlock eyed her cautiously. "Sherlock, you were right. Marriage. I know, you will never return my feelings, but you care about me, and you want to keep me, and our child, safe."

"I… do care about you," Sherlock replied, shifting nervously around the room. Tabitha slid into the bed as Sherlock pulled out his own pair of pajamas. Watching him pull his shirt off made Tabitha's breath catch – he was beautiful in the moonlight peeping through the window.

"Good. Let me take care of you," she flirted, throwing the covers back and popping up off the bed. Sherlock turned, the only thing on his body a pair of tight boxer shorts, and looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Tabitha chuckled and stepped to him. She put her hands on his chest, and slid them up to stop on his shoulders.

"Tabitha, I –"

"We can still have sex, right?" She asked with raised eyebrows. The blue in his eyes turned dark and cloudy as his hands went to her waist. He pulled her roughly against him.

"Certainly," he growled, then bent down to capture her lips with his. Their tongues dueled passionately, Tabitha's hands in his hair and his hands gripping her waist. They ran up her body to hold her breasts in his hands as she rubbed him against his pants. He pulled at her shirt, flinging it across the room, and pushed down her pants quickly. She grabbed his shoulders, and held tightly as he picked her up, their lips still locked, and she wrapped her legs around his waist.

They fell into bed, him on top, her still wrapped around him. She groaned as his lips left a trail down her cheek, jaw, and to her neck. He nipped and licked the perfect spot, and she rubbed her wetness against him.

"No waiting," she gasped, pulling his head up by his curls to take his mouth against hers again. With a moan he slid inside her and started thrusting. Tabitha gasped as he thrust hard, the sound of their bodies coming together filling the room. She whimpered and moaned, he grunted and whispered rough words in her ears, and his hands flicked against her nipples as he pounded into her. Her finger nails ran down his back and he arched against her body.

"Why do you do this to me?" Sherlock growled against her lips as she quaked against him, pulling him tightly into her for the last time. He bite her shoulder hard as he came inside her. She shuddered and trembled in his arms as they came down from their high.

"That was rather fast," Tabitha murmured. Sherlock gasped for breath as he pushed himself onto his hands above her.

"It seems to be that way all the time with us," he replied, rolling off to his back. Instead of getting up, though, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled Tabitha to his chest. She rested her head on his chest, his heartbeat loud in her ears, and let an arm rest over his stomach. Not wanting to ruin the moment, she kept silent as he absentmindedly stroked her hip with his thumb.

"Good night," Tabitha whispered into the darkness.

A hum was all she heard in reply.

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When Tabitha woke up, she was alone in the bed. Not surprised at all, she took a quick shower and pulled on a new white skirt and purple button-up shirt. She had people to see, things to do, today! Sliding on some black ballet flats, she walked into the living room whistling. She heard a snicker as she rounded into the kitchen to get a quick breakfast.

"It's still odd to know that the virginal Sherlock Holmes is not innocent at all," Mary quipped from her spot on the couch. She was wrapped up in one of John's dressing gowns, sipping at a mug. Tabitha turned and raised her eyebrow.

"Look who's talking, all naked under that robe," she replied with a chuckle. Mary blushed and tightened the green robe around her body. Tabitha made herself some quick toast, with butter and jam on top. Settling on the couch next to Mary, she took a bite as her friend sat her mug down.

"Plans today?" Mary asked.

"Yep. Lestrade this morning, Mrs. Hudson for lunch, and Ir- a new friend for dinner," she said, quickly fixing her mix-up. No one knew that she had talked to Irene Adler, although Sherlock was clever enough to deduce it as soon as she had gotten home.

"Ah. Well, can I ask you something?" Mary looked a bit bashful as she bit her lip.

"Of course!" Tabitha smiled back reassuringly.

"In your… universe, am I mentioned? With… John?" she asked slowly. Her brow creased, and Tabitha took a moment to think it over.

"Well, you know that this is a television show in my universe, right?" Mary nodded. "Well, season three – that's after Sherlock fake's his death – isn't technically out, yet. Well, I guess I'm in it, but…anyway!" Tabitha shook her head to get back on track. "You are mentioned for the next season, and… I don't know if I should tell you what happens…"

"Is it bad?" Mary asked, suddenly worried.

"No! No, not that I know of! I just don't' want to jinx anything!" Mary pleaded silently with her eyes. "Oh, alright! You and John get married."

Mary's mouth dropped open, and Tabitha felt a bit anxious about the fact she had just spilled. Would this mess up what was supposed to happen, mess up John and Mary's fate?

"Oh, god, I hope you didn't jinx it!" Mary cried with a laugh.

"Agreed!" Tabitha laughed, running a hand through her long hair. She stood up and put her plate in the kitchen. "Well, I'm off to speak with Lestrade."

"Does he know? About you?"

"Just that I have no past, no present, and that we are going to talk about a permanent future here," Tabitha answered as she grabbed a black jacket and stuck her wallet and phone in the pocket. Mary gave a finger wave as she left.

As she rode a cab to Scotland Yard, Tabitha sent off some quick texts to Mrs. Hudson and Irene to make sure their plans were still happening. After both had confirmed, she paid the cabbie and made her way into the offices. As Tabitha weaved her way through the desks and such, she heard whispers following her. She walked by a suited man by the water jug.

"Holmes's girlfriend. Must be an odd one, too."

Tabitha stopped and turned quickly to the man, making sure to put a stern look on her face. The man blinked in surprise and dropped his empty paper cup on the floor. She stepped to him, and poked him in the chest before speaking.

"Who knew the brightest man, and the best lover, would get a woman before you?" She gave him a final poke and turned her heel, lifting her chin proudly and eyeing everyone as she passed them. They stared in surprise, most likely by the comment about Sherlock being the best lover, and she grinned at them. When she made it to Lestrade's office, he was leaning against his door frame with an amused look on his face.

**Please reviewwww!**


	15. What's Gotten Into You?

**_Tabitha meets Anderson! No Irene in this chapter, but the next one is definite! _**

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**CHAPTER 15 - What's Gotten Into You?**

"I thought you two weren't involved more than… you know… involved," he commented as he shut the door behind him.

"Things have changed," she answered with a sigh, not sure she wanted to let him in on their secret that should be too early to know. Lestrade took a seat and begun to shuffle through papers. Tabitha plopped into a chair, smoothing her skirt over her knees. "Have you sent the boys out? They weren't home when I got up."

"Early murder this morning. Last I heard he had John and Molly at St. Barts." He pulled out a stack of papers. "Are you sure you don't remember anything? At all?"

"Greg," Tabitha said, leaning a bit forward in her chair. "I've lived with Sherlock Holmes for over two weeks. If we haven't figured it out by now, I don't think we will." Lestrade raised his eyebrows at that, and gave her look of defeat.

"Well, that's that, I suppose. It seems that Mycroft Holmes has helped you with identification?" Tabitha wasn't sure how to answer that, so she kept silent while she wanted for Lestrade to say something else. "Tabitha, we'll make it official right now, don't worry."

"Ah, good," she answered with a visible sigh. "Yes, I have them."

It didn't take long to go through the forms and papers the DI needed to get the process going. Since Mycroft was a government official who had his hands in a lot of different things, there wasn't much that Tabitha needed to do other than sign papers.

"Thank you," Tabitha said softly as she stood up to leave. Lestrade looked up from his desk with a surprised face. "For helping me. I know it's frustrating, not having anything to go on, trust me. It's nice to know you're as great as people make you out to be."

"Tell that to my ex-wife," he murmured, but a blush appeared on his cheeks and a smile fell over his lips. Tabitha winked at him and turned to the door just as a knock sounded. The door opened and the famous Anderson walked in.

"Finally," Tabitha said with a chuckle. The men sent her an odd look. She stepped up to Anderson and took his hand in a quick shake. "I've wanted to meet you for a long time." Anderson blinked at her, pulling his hand away, and a sly smile pushed over his thin lips.

"Ah, and you might be?"

"My fiancée," a deep voice said loudly from behind. Everyone in the office that was within earshot – which was the whole damn department apparently, whipped their heads toward Lestrade's office. Lestrade choked on a sip of coffee, and Anderson's eyes went wide.

"Fiancée?" Anderson and Lestrade said at the same time. Tabitha laughed, and a snort popped out before she could stop it. She slapped a hand over her mouth as she giggled. John rolled his eyes and put his forehead in one of his hands.

"Yes. Now, go back to work!" Tabitha shouted to the people watching them. They continued to stare at her. "Oh, please, don't you have a job to do?"

"Back to work!" Lestrade shouted next, standing at the door and pointing toward everyone. They hurriedly buried their nose in whatever work they were doing, and he sighed dramatically. "Get in here." John, Sherlock, and Tabitha stepped fully into the office. "You, too, Anderson!"

"Me? Why me?"

"Because I'm curious to your reaction is to Sherlock getting married," Lestrade said with a teasing grin. Anderson exhaled loudly and leaned against a far corner to watch the other people. The DI turned to Sherlock, but before he could open his mouth, the consulting detective held out an evidence bag.

"This was found in Marcus De Winters apartment. It should lead you to the killer, which is the landlady," he stated, with a smug grin on his face. The bag contained a piece of cloth stained in some sort of blue dye. Lestrade sent a look to John, who shrugged and nodded in cautious agreement.

"Alright, now with the marriage thing, what is going on?" Anderson interrupted.

"Why is he in here?" Sherlock questioned with obvious annoyance. John and Greg took a seat while Tabitha stood next to Sherlock and laid a hand on his arm. He looked her up and down. "You are having lunch and dinner with someone. Who?"

"Anderson is here because I wanted to meet him, and I'm having lunch with Mrs. Hudson and dinner with an old friend of yours." She raised her eyebrows. He studied her a moment while the room waited silently. Sherlock deduced quickly that she was going out with The Woman for the evening, and tightened his jaw.

"Marriage. Wedding. Seriously?" Lestrade interrupted.

"It's obviously what we have to do. She's pregnant."

"Pregnant!" Anderson and Lestrade repeated loudly. John looked amused at the situation, lounging comfortable in the chair with a smile on his face.

"Technically too soon to tell," she corrected. "The probability is rather high, though."

"You had sex with him?" Anderson asked incredulously.

"How else would I be pregnant, Einstein?" Tabitha countered sarcastically.

"Two weeks, Sherlock. You have only known her for two weeks. For god sakes, what has gotten into you?" Lestrade asked. The question was more from curiosity than anger.

"Apparently he's gotten into her," Anderson quipped under his breath. Sherlock sent him a deathly look, and Tabitha squeezed his arm as she let out a loud snort of laughter.

"That was actually funny," she complimented. "Now, though, I must head back to the flat to get ready for lunch with our landlady."

"Thanks for coming on, Tabitha," Lestrade called out as they left. Anderson followed slowly. Tabitha stopped at the door leaving the building, and turned. The men all stopped to look at her.

"Can I talk to Anderson for a moment?"

"Why?" Sherlock snapped.

"Shut up, and go out the door," she said, using her thumb to point over her should as she crossed her arms over her chest. John chuckled and pulled the tall man behind him. When the door shut, she turned to a curious Anderson in front of her.

"Sherlock's colleagues don't talk to me. What is your game?"

"Besides cheating on your wife with Ms. Donovan, and being a huge prick to Sherlock, you seem like a decent guy. Why pick on them?"

"Detective Donovan and I –"

"Are you still together?" He kept silent as he watched her suspiciously. "If you do care about her, more so than your wife, why not just put it out in the open, tell your wife that you are not in love with her, and at least separate. You both may be complete asses to my boyfriend, but you don't have to take advantage of one another."

Anderson stared at her for a moment. She could see Sherlock staring restlessly through the big glass doors of the building. John was watching, amused, and she knew Sherlock could read her lips.

"We are in the process of a divorce at the moment," he answered back quietly, his face softening a bit. Instead of a snide, cruel man from the show, she was seeing Anderson in a new light – a man trying to make things right in his life.

"Good. You aren't so bad. Now, do you hate Sherlock because he's better than you?"

"I hate him because he's a sociopathic lunatic."

"Ah, you admit he is better than you." Tabitha quipped with a smile. Anderson scowled at her as she turned on her heel and left the building.

00000000000000000000000000000000

"Sherlock, this is just for Martha and me," Tabitha whined, looking up at Sherlock with annoyance. Mrs. Hudson fluttered around her kitchen putting the finishing touches on the lunch sandwiches they were going to eat. John was out to lunch with Mary, leaving Sherlock to the landlady and his new fiancée.

"You aren't safe alone," he muttered, sitting across from her at the small table. Mrs. Hudson had a chair between them for herself, and sat out three dishes.

"I'm with Mrs. Hudson!" Tabitha exclaimed. The older woman turned to her, touching her chest, surprised at the loud voice. Tabitha flushed and cleared her throat. She lowered her voice to finish her thought. "What is going on?"

"Mycroft thinks there are people after you," he answered, adding sugar to his tea. His eyes were on the mug. Mrs. Hudson gasped and took her seat.

"Oh, dear, Sherlock, you need to keep her safe! Especially now that she is pregnant." The other two people look up sharply.

"How do you know that?" Tabitha asked.

"Dear, I know what it's like to be pregnant. It may be early, but you have that look," she answered softly, patting Tabitha's hand. "Oh, Sherlock, this is so exciting. I knew you'd find love!"

"Hm," Sherlock grunted, his face turning a bit flush. He stirred his tea a bit harder than he should. "Well, might as well eat some lunch. I haven't eaten in a while."

As they ate their meal, Tabitha thought about what Sherlock had told her. From what Irene had said when they met, she had a feeling someone was after her. Was it something to do with Sherlock and Moriarty? Was it the famous Sebastian Moran? Excitement and dread mixed through her system. Her adventure in the Sherlock world hadn't been as exciting as the television made it out to be.

Mrs. Hudson chattered on about the last few days, when she had met with an old friend from America, and found a wonderful new jumper on sale. When the topic of baby stuff came up, Sherlock jumped up, almost knocking his chair over and mumbled about using the loo. Tabitha and Martha watched him leave, and Tabitha sighed worriedly.

"He can't even deal with speaking about children," she whispered. Mrs. Hudson patted her hand and gave her a reassuring smile.

"He may not show it, but he definitely has a fatherly type side. I've known him long enough to have seen it," she stated. "You've been around for only two weeks, and you can see how attached he is to you already."

"Really?"

"Absolutely!"

Sherlock came back in just as Mrs. Hudson took the dishes off the table. He cleared his throat and Tabitha looked up at him. He was standing close and had a hand on the back of her chair.

"I have some time this afternoon. If you would like, before you go off to dinner with our friend, we can… spend time together." Tabitha blinked up at him, not paying attention to how Mrs. Hudson busied herself in the kitchen right after he said that. Sherlock cleared his throat and pulled away at her silence. "Well, no matter, I'm sure Lestrade has an important case I must see to –"

"I'd like that," Tabitha finally responded, grabbing his arm as he went to turn. He looked back at her face, with her smile. He felt warmth spread through his body, and a calming effect took over his mind – was that relief? "Spending time together. It's a good idea."

"Yes. Yes, of course," he muttered, letting her hold onto his elbow as she stood up. She kept her hand stationed there as they said a quick goodbye to their landlady and made their way up to 221B.

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After his talk with Mycroft, the Doctor did some searching through the TARDIS for signs of Weeping Angels gathering in the vicinity. The older Holmes brother had been correct – attacks were to the north, heading straight toward London. After searching for the name Sebastian Moran, it didn't take long for him to realize that he would probably never find the name in an official database. He made a mental note to ask Mycroft for information, if he would allow him to see it.

Deciding to take another route to information, he put on his best bowtie and shoes, ran a hand through his hair, and grabbed his brown tweed coat as he left the TARDIS. He made sure his sonic screwdriver was in the pocket inside his coat, and his psychic paper stuck in the other pocket. If you were a passerby, you'd probably say he all but bounced with glee as he walked toward the offices of Scotland Yard, but on the inside he was worried and a bit cautious of where he was going. He made certain to stay away from any statues that looked ominous.

Obviously, that never stopped the Angels before, but better safe than sorry!

It was late afternoon when he stepped into the busy offices of the country's police force. To get through the secretary in the front, he flashed his psychic paper with a smile and the woman immediately placed a call to Lestrade.

"Sir, there is a man from the Commissioner's office insisting he needs to speak to you." After a moment, she put down the phone and sent the Doctor back. He weaved himself through the cubicles and busy workers, nodding and smiling at the few who glanced at him. DI Lestrade was waiting for him at his desk.

"Ah, Detective Inspector, so nice to meet you, my name is the – John Smith," the Doctor said, stopping himself just in time to use his go-to name when needed. He shook Lestrade's hand with a smile, while Greg looked confused.

"How can I help you?" he asked cautiously, gesturing towards the empty chair across from him as he sat in his own chair behind his desk. The Doctor took the seat, but seemed to keep busy with some part of his body twitching or fidgeting.

"I'm here to ask you about a certain name. Do you know of a Sebastian Moran?"

"I've heard the name whispered in darkened alleys," Lestrade answered with a sigh. He clicked a few buttons on his computer and turned the screen to show the Doctor. "We have a small amount of intel, but nothing is definitive. Have you got more information?"

"We think that he is the one behind the mysterious disappearances up north," the Doctor murmured, leaning forward, grabbing the computer screen between both hands and reading up on the information quickly. There wasn't much to go on – Connections to over a dozen criminals, by the way of mouth, and dead end trails.

"What disappearances?"

"Disappearances like with Miss Tabitha Hunter," the Doctor murmured, pulling back and wondering around the room. He absentmindedly touched different things – the shelf, a few books, the wall, and some framed pictures on the wall – as he thought silently. Lestrade immediately jumped up at the mention of Tabitha.

"What do you know about Miss Hunter's disappearances?" he asked with a commanding tone. The Doctor stopped, his finger to his chin, to look back at the detective. Lestrade searched the other man with his eyes.

"She is in trouble."

"From whom?"

"The Angels." The Doctor said cryptically with a soft, menacing voice.


	16. Emotional Experiment

_**AH Ms. Adler is here! I hope you like the relationship I establish between Tabitha and her. I'm trying to keep Sherlock in character as much as possible, even when he's romantic towards Tabitha and his feelings toward being a father, and all that stuff. I hope it's okay. Thanks for the AWESOME REVIEWS. I am so glad you like this. I'm working really hard on this.**_

* * *

**CHAPTER 16 - Emotional Experiment**

There hadn't been much conversation in the last half an hour between Tabitha and Sherlock, but there was comfortable silence. She had taken a seat on the couch, and he had awkwardly laid down, putting his feet on her lap. She had raised her eyebrows at him questioningly, but he covered his face with a newspaper he decided to read at that moment. Tabitha knew this 'bonding' thing was hard for him, but he was making an effort, so she would take what he gave at the moment.

After thirty minutes of Sherlock reading the newspaper and then reading a book, while Tabitha read her own romantic suspense book, Sherlock threw the book across the room and pulled himself up violently.

"What's wrong?" Tabitha asked, gently saving her place and putting the closed book the coffee table. Sherlock paced the room with a frown, and she leaned back on the couch, one arm draped over the couch arm and the other on her lap.

"I feel like I should be, I don't know, courting you," Sherlock huffed, running his hands through his hair and ruffling his hair. "I don't know how to do this!" he suddenly yelled, stomping to the kitchen and sitting on a stool.

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Sherlock stared down at the experiments on the table, his teeth clenched together. It had been a long time since he had felt real panic, if any, and now it was making it hard to breathe. He felt Tabitha's eyes on him, and pressed his lips tightly together. He began to fiddle with the experiments, although he couldn't focus completely because his mind kept going back to the fact that he was going to be a father. In roughly nine months he'd have a little human being that he was responsible for, not to mention a woman that he needed to take care of.

His fists clenched on the table, and he felt hands on his shoulders. They kneaded his shoulders, and he felt the tension loosening bit by bit.

"Sherlock, talk to me. It's new to me, as well," Tabitha murmured. Sherlock let her words flow over him, through his mind and over his body.

"No, it isn't new to you. You've been married, had a relationship, and dealt with all this sentiment. I'm too smart for this," he murmured, flinching away from her kneading hands. She paused a moment, and then her hands were back on his shoulder, squeezing just enough for him to realize she was angry now. Sherlock held still as her breath touched his ear.

"You will never compare to T.J., no matter how brilliant you are," she said, her words a bit harsh. "He was perfect for me, but now he's gone. You and I are connected now, whether you like it or not. You can either make it work, or you'll regret missing out at a chance for a woman to love you for you, not just your mind or your body. And trust me, that kind of love is going to change you for the better."

She pulled back and he heard her stomp toward the bedroom. He mulled over her words in his head. Obviously, he was nothing at all like her late husband. The only similarities were that they were both male. Sherlock was probably smarter and more attractive. On an emotional level, T.J. would be higher on the scale.

Love. The only thing love would do to him was make life complicated, messy, and make him weak. Weakness was not something he could show – the last time he had played his hand, Sherlock had to fake his death. It had taken over three years to get himself back into good graces of the people so he could get cases. Could he risk it all for a woman? For a child, a child that had half his DNA?

A quick thought of a dark-haired boy with his mother's gray eyes popped into his mind. He'd have his father's mind, obviously, and his mother's talent to understand emotions. Without realizing it, he felt a soft smile curling over his lips. He immediately changed it to a straight line of no emotion, but the warm feeling in his chest wouldn't leave. The door opened, and John walked in. Sherlock was a bit surprised that Mary wasn't behind him – they spend all their time together. There had been no argument, John looked just as normal as he was before.

"What did you do?" John sighed, stopping at the frame of the kitchen.

"What do you mean?" Sherlock asked, his brows furrowed, focusing back on his experiments, a bit easier since he thought through the things that had been nagging him.

"I hear Tabitha stomping around your room." John looked at Sherlock expectantly.

"I don't know what I did."

"What did you say, you idiot?" Sherlock snapped his eyes to his friend, and opened his mouth, but John held up a hand. "You are an idiot with woman and people in general, shut up. Tell me exactly what you said."

Sherlock repeated his words to Tabitha before she had gotten upset, and John put a palm to his forehead. Sherlock went back to his work, waiting for John to explain it to him.

"Sherlock, you can't bring her late husband into your relationship. She will never fully be over him, but she is trying to make this work with you!"

"We have a child on the way, John, we aren't in love, nor in a relationship."

"Not in a relationship! Christ!" John exclaimed, throwing his hands up in defeat. "She's in love with you, she's having your child, and if you stay in denial about your feelings for her, you'll lose her and the baby!" It was John's turn to stomp down the hall. Sherlock gathered that he would talk to Tabitha now, to get her side of the story.

Sherlock needed a cigarette. He got up, not bothering with his coat, smoothed his hand over his suit jacket, straightened the collar on his dark blue button up shirt, and left the flat.

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For the rest of the afternoon before her evening with Ms. Adler, Tabitha stayed in the bedroom. John had spoken to her for a few moments, and she had calmed down. It was obvious to both John and her that Sherlock was struggling with emotions that were new to him. John had been through this before, at least a little bit, and convinced her to not give up on the man. Tabitha had hugged John, thankful to have someone who knew Sherlock as well as she did.

She looked out the window of the bedroom, the sun low in the sky signaling that she should start getting ready for dinner. Sighing, she was again reminded that she was in a different universe than where she was born and lived over two weeks before. Her bookstore wasn't hers anymore, and she hadn't kept much contact with T.J.'s family. Her distant cousins weren't close to her, either, so no one would miss her. Thinking about her assistant at the bookshelf made her long to see her friend again. The woman, Nancy, was of retirement age, but still sharp as a knife.

Looking at the clock, she decided to write a quick letter to the few people who would miss her. The Doctor would make sure they get them, Tabitha was sure of it! Grabbing a random notebook and a pen, Tabitha sat on the bed and started to write.

To T.J.'s parents, she wrote:

_It's been a while since we talked. I just wanted to say thanks for all the support you've given. I've decided to take a new turn on my life. I've moved to London. I've even met someone! I promise to stay in contact, but it will have to be through letters. Paying for a cellphone is more expensive than I thought! I know it's sudden, but I hope you know that I will always love your son. Please take care of his grave for me – it needs to be kept nice, like you said! Don't be afraid to write back – it will get to me somehow._

_Love, Tabitha_

To Nancy, she wrote:

_I've decided to stay in London. I'm taking your advice – moving on and trying something new! I don't know if this makes it official, but I am giving you my store. Look after it – it still needs some growing! You are in charge now, my dear, and I know you'll take care of it for me. I promise to write when I can, as long as you promise to reply when you can._

_Love, Tabitha_

Smiling sadly, she tore the two letters out of the notebook and folded it as she walked into the living room. She wasn't surprised to see John lounging on the couch, watching the television. Sherlock was deep in thought, leaning back in his desk chair as he stared at his laptop. John glanced at her, but didn't say anything, when she came into the room. Tabitha walked behind Sherlock and smelled smoke on his shirt.

She felt guilt hit her – he had been doing so well, and she had made him crave a cigarette so bad that he now had to start over.

"Do you know how to get in contact with the Doctor?" she asked out loud. John let out a quick 'no', while Sherlock seemed to jump at her words. He turned his head a bit so he could see her behind his chair.

"You should be getting ready for your dinner date," he commented, looking her up and down.

"I will, but I need the Doctor to make sure these letters get to the people in my universe," she replied back with raised eyebrows. He watched her for a moment and stood up. He took the hand that didn't hold the letters, and pulled her into the kitchen, away from John just enough so he wouldn't hear them if they talked in low voices. Tabitha leaned back against the counter with her arms crossed while Sherlock put his hands in his pockets, staring at her. She waited, and glanced over at the clock on across the room.

"It has come to my attention that I am… being difficult with our situation," he started, taking his time to figure out the right words to say. He cleared his throat as Tabitha didn't make a sound. "You have been nothing but patient with me, and I return it by making it sound like our… relationship… is nothing but logical because of the… child."

Tabitha let a small smile slip over her lips, and he caught onto it. His eyes showed his relief, but his face stayed blank just like normal.

"You know almost everything about me, from your universe and that… television show. After all that, you still trust me with your life, with a child's life. I know you from all the deducing I can do, but you still surprise me when you show me a little bit more of yourself. It's not just that you're sexually attractive to me, your mind is cleverer than I realized."

"Are you saying that you do have feelings for me?" Tabitha interjected, her smile turning into a grin. Her hands unfolded and landed on the counter on either said of her body.

"I'm _saying_ that… that I enjoy the thought of experimenting with a relationship – my first real emotional relationship, with you," he said, his brow furrowing with nervousness at his admission.

"That is actually romantic, coming from you," Tabitha chuckled, pushing herself away from the counter and putting her arms around his neck. Sherlock pulled his hands out of his pockets and lightly put them on her hips. It was different from the other times they had touched like this – those were times of sexual need. This touch was more of an emotional admission for Sherlock. His face softened, and a nervous smile came to his face.

"Hamish. You should call the baby Hamish."

Tabitha laughed loudly at that – it reminded her of the episode with Irene and Sherlock and the 'beg twice' conversation.

"That is a horrible name," Tabitha commented, than surprise Sherlock with a brush of her lips on his. Their lips moved softly together, both of their eyes fluttered closed. Sherlock's hands tightened on her hips, and Tabitha pulled their bodies closer. Before it deepened, she pulled back, and saw desire on Sherlock's face. "Since you want to… experiment emotionally, why don't we cut out sex for a few weeks?"

"Why?" Sherlock questioned, clearly not wanting that option.

"Sex is physical – we know that works with us. For myself, a relationship like we are … experimenting with takes more than physical connection."

"Hm. You mean we should learn how each other's mind works to see if we are compatible mentally," he basically repeated. Tabitha chuckled again, and lightly kissed his mouth.

"Exactly!" She pulled away. "Now, I need to get ready. Back to why I came out here – do you know how to contact the Doctor?"

"He apparently has a mobile – he texted me a few hours ago stating he had gone to see Lestrade about the people after you."

"Tell him to come by and pick up the letters!" she called as she went back to the bedroom to get ready.

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Just over an hour later, Tabitha was picked up by a sleek black car in front of the flat. To her surprise, Irene was sitting in the car waiting for her. She slid into the seat, and the driver shut the door behind her. The woman had on a body hugging red number, sleeveless, stopping at mid-thigh and with a high neckline. Tabitha had chosen a yellow strapless dress, the loose from her waist to her mid-thighs. The top portion look a bit like a corset, with faint lace along the hemlines. Both of their hair were up off their necks – Tabitha's in a stylish pony tail with loose bangs over her forehead and parted to the side, with Irene's up in her iconic pin-up style.

"Mycroft most likely knows you're alive," Tabitha commented as the car took off. Irene let out a light laugh. One hand resting on her lap, holding her precious phone, and the other was resting on the arm rest between them.

"If he does, he hasn't made any contact with me," she commented with a wave of her hand. She didn't seem worried at all. "This dinner is not about work – let's be friendly, my dear." Irene winked at her with smokey eyes and leaned toward Tabitha a bit. Her hand found a spot on Tabitha's arm. Tabitha's hands stayed on her lap, lightly holding her small white clutch.

"Those smokey eyes and sexy voice won't work on me, Ms. Adler," Tabitha chuckled. Irene raised a perfect eyebrow and pulled her hand away with an amused smile.

"They will if I truly want them to," Irene replied. "We have reservations at a quiet restaurant along the strip – Italian and very expensive. My treat, of course."

"Of course. I'll even gossip about Mr. Holmes if you buy me dessert."

"Sounds like a plan," Irene grinned. They arrived at the restaurant, and were led through a private door just inside the public entrance. It opened into a dim, romantically lighted stairway, and the women, one waiter, and two body guards made their way up to a platform on the roof. It was secluded, lightly decorated to look inviting, and candles were lit all around.

"Are you trying to seduce me?" Tabitha asked with her eyebrows raised. She wasn't trying to joke – she was honestly curious if the woman was trying to seduce her. Irene just gave a delicate shrug and murmured to the waiter to bring them a specific type of wine to get their meal started. They took seats across from each other.

"How are you handling this… universe?"

"Ah, you do believe me." Tabitha was again surprised. The waiter brought a red wine, poured it into the glasses near each woman. Tabitha looked down at the glass, and figured it would be fine to have a few sips. The waiter poured glasses of water, and then left.

"I've spent some time looking you up. You appeared in the systems after you, let's say, arrived here. I assume that was Mycroft Holmes's doing?"

"Yes. I'm keeping him updated on Sherlock."

"You actually took the money?" Irene looked surprised.

"Why not? I needed it to start a life here, and it's not like Mycroft can't get the information he wants another way. It's just easier for everyone if I keep the line open."

"Smart girl. Now you have both Holmes brothers under your thumb," the other woman grinned approvingly. The waiter brought out menus, and the women ordered. Tabitha got a chicken and pasta plate, while Irene decided on a light chicken salad with some kind of dressing she had never heard of.

"I'm not trying to have them under my thumb. I care about them." Tabitha watched the woman across from her. Remembering their conversation from the last time they had been together, she changed the subject. "You know who wants to kill me. Who is it? Sebastian Moran?"

Irene jerked her head up, eyes wide, the rare emotion of being caught off guard apparent on her face. Tabitha just smiled at her with her hands on the table. Irene took another sip of wine and straightened in her chair. She pushed back enough to cross one of her legs over the other knee and place her hands delicately on her thighs. Irene and Tabitha stared at each other for a few moments.

"How do you know about Moran?"

"He's in my universe, although not on the television show. He's in the books. Unfortunately, I haven't done much reading of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, so I don't know much about the man." Tabitha sipped her wine nonchalantly, but her head was starting to move quickly. Irene continued to watch her silently. "Irene, I like you. I'd like to be friends, but if you put me or the people I love in danger, again, I will take responsibility for your unfortunate ending. Without Sherlock as your savior."

Tabitha had never issued a threat in her life, but the thought of her child in danger changed her thoughts on issuing warnings. Irene seemed to think about Tabitha's words, then undid her legs and scooted closer to the table. The waiter was bringing their dishes. The women were quiet as the man sat the plates in front of them, then hurried off. The two bodyguards watched him as he went through the door, and then turned their gazes back to the woman. Tabitha had to admit, they were intimidating, standing on each side of the door that led back down the stairs.

"To anyone else, your words would have no meaning," Irene finally replied. She took a dainty bite, and waited until after she chewed and swallowed to continue. "However, I am very good at reading people. You, Tabitha, are very serious." Tabitha opened her mouth to issue a reply, but Irene held up her finger to stop her. "You are a good match for our Sherlock Holmes. I, dear I say it, am still in love with him. Or rather, his mind, I suppose you could say. I don't want you in danger."

"You aren't going to pick sides, though, am I right?" Tabitha nibbled on her own food, and hummed with appreciation at the flavor. Very nice. Irene just sent her a small smile in reply, and the woman nibbled on their food for a few silent moments.

"You are staying in this universe, I presume?" Irene asked with an honest smile.

"Yes. Some things have… happened, and I think it's for the best. I am sending letters to important people, to make sure they don't worry about me."

"You've been in love with Sherlock since you appeared here – that is not the thing that has changed your mind. What has happened?" The woman across from her put down her silverware and looked curiously into Tabitha's eyes. Her hands ended up under her chin, propped up on the table. Tabitha looked away, feeling her face flush a bit. "Oh, I suspect something big has happened, Ms. Hunter."

"It's not technically something we know for sure, but I am most likely pregnant." As soon as the words came out of her mouth, Tabitha realized it may not be something she should have told Irene. The woman looked at her in shock, her red lips forming an 'o'. Tabitha realized this information could be precious to a man like Moran, and Irene wasn't picking sides. She would have no reason to protect this secret, unless Tabitha gave her something in return. Irene seemed to pick up on her panicked look, because she reached out and placed her hands on Tabitha's hands that were placed on the table.

"I know what you think of me, but I have never put a child in danger. I manipulate adults – men and women alike, but a child is innocent. I give you my word that this information will never leave my lips."

"Moriarty was not an innocent child," Tabitha pointed out, relieved and still a bit cautious at the same time. Irene pulled her hands away and started to finish her meal. Tabitha did the same. They continued to talk for the next few hours, even after the meal was finished and decided to enjoy the scene from a bench that looked out into the beautiful view below. They watched the sunset together, and Tabitha felt she had made a new ally, even if the woman had said that she wouldn't pick sides.

_**Please Review!**_

_**PS I've decided to introduce Rory, Amy, and Melody into the story, but they won't be the Doctor's companions - remember, they are just normal people in this universe.**_


	17. Scott?

_**I don't like sequels cause it makes it seem like they are dragging the story too long, but I may do one for this. This one will go through the first few months of pregnancy, at least. It may even go through the hold pregnancy. The sequel may deal with SHerlock having a baby to take care of... anyway, thanks for the reviews and stuff!**_

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**CHAPTER 17 - Scott?**

While Tabitha was with Ms. Adler, Sherlock and John were at the morgue with Molly. All three stood over a pale body, looking undamaged on the outside, but completely obliterated on the inside. Molly was even effected by the thought of the insides turning to mush, and bit her lip nervously as Sherlock studied the body.

"This is like something out of a crime scene television show," she murmured, pulling off her gloves with a snap. She tossed them in the trash, followed by John, and they wondered over to the desk to put the finishing touches on some paperwork. Sherlock didn't seem to notice that he had been left to stare at the odd male body. "Has there been any news with, what was her name, Tabitha?"

"No. It's been decided that she is going to be starting over with the life she had built in the last two weeks," John answered, not wanting to give away the impossible secret of Sherlock's woman. He glanced at Molly, who was studying Sherlock.

"Sherlock and her…?" Molly turned to him with a questioningly look. A few years ago, John would have seen a look of longing and jealousy on the woman's face, but Molly had surprised him through the time that Sherlock had been gone. Instead of those emotions, curiosity was evident on her face. John chuckled a bit and crossed his arms over his chest, turning back to watch Sherlock.

"He says they are trying an emotional experiment. Of course he'd never use the word dating, but there it is."

"Good. I like her. She's good for him." Molly smiled softly and took her papers to Sherlock. "Do I need to write anything else in the report before I file it, Sherlock?"

"No, I think we have everything, Molly, thank you," he murmured, putting his scarf and coat back on.

"Do you mind giving me Tabitha's number? I wouldn't mind getting to know her more – since she is going to be around more often," Molly asked with a hint of a question in her voice. John put on his coat and held back a laugh at Sherlock's uncomfortable look.

"I suppose I can – she did say she would like to get to know you," he replied. John walked out and waited for Sherlock. After a few moments, they walked out of St. Bart's together. They called a cab and made their way back to their flat, where Tabitha and Mary should be waiting for then. John froze at the thought.

"This is so strange," he murmured to himself.

"What is?" Sherlock asked.

"We have women. Waiting for us. At our flat." Sherlock's eyebrows furrowed, but he kept his eyes out the window. John chuckled happily. "Seriously. I would have never thought a month ago that we'd have woman in our apartment for more than a case. I could barely keep a woman for a few dates!"

"She has stirred our lives up a bit, hasn't she?" Sherlock murmured with a smirk. The thought seemed to be pleasant to him as well, John saw. He agreed with a hum and the boys were smiling when they got to the flat. When they entered, however, their faces turned into surprise.

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She had no idea what had gotten into the three of them, but Mary, the Doctor, and her decided to have a spontaneous party when she got back from her dinner date. The Doctor had procured decorations – rainbow ribbons covered the ceiling, confetti was thrown all over the living room, and the table was covered in sweets and biscuits and fruity drinks, sans alcohol.

They were still wearing their attire from before – Tabitha in her yellow dress, Mary in her pant suit from work, and the Doctor in his usual braces and tweed jacket. Mrs. Hudson was in the chair, clapping to the music. The Doctor had put on a classical jig of sorts, saying it was from the planet of Ubon, wherever that was. When Holmes and Watson opened the door, the three of them were laughing and clapping and dancing around the room. The music wasn't loud enough to be a disturbance, but there was no mistaken that they heard it from outside the door. The four partiers didn't notice the door swing open.

"Oh, you're home!" Mrs. Hudson suddenly exclaims, standing up hurriedly and pulling the boys inside. The Doctor immediately turned down the music, swiping at the confetti that had gathered on top of the record player. John and Sherlock's jaws are down, and the girls start to giggle as the Doctor took John's coat off of him.

"We were bored, so we decided to throw a party!" The Doctor laughed.

"There are scraps of paper all over my living room." Sherlock seemed to have a hard time processing this issue.

"Rainbow scraps!" Mary replied, taking a handful, walking up to John, and throwing it over their heads. She pulled him into a heavy kiss as the confetti dropped around them and on them. John held her close as they kissed, and Mrs. Hudson laughed. The Doctor took Sherlock's coat and throw it next to John's on the couch.

"Well, this is certainly… odd," John chuckled, pulling away from Mary and shaking his head to get the confetti out of his hair. Sherlock was fighting a smile, and Tabitha came up to him.

"I hope you aren't upset," she said with an exaggerated pout. "Come join us."

"No, thank you," he said, his lip twitching. It was obvious to everyone that he was trying desperately to keep his cool outward appearance. As everyone else in the room did their best to hide the grins on their faces, he turned abruptly and headed to his bedroom. After he shut the door behind him, the rest of them looked at one another. It only took a moment for all of them to dissolve into laughter.

"Oh, dear, it's getting late! I am off to bed. Good night!" Mrs. Hudson waved as she left, followed by various goodbyes. The Doctor looked giddy to be included, and let out another goodbye. John and Mary decided to take their leave, heading to his bedroom. They were whispering and giggling to one another, and the Doctor's face flushed when he overheard a particularly personal comment between the two of them.

"Doctor, remember, my letters?" Tabitha reminded the man as he went out cleaning out what confetti and streamers he could.

"I remember! Don't worry!" he replied with a wink. She helped him for the next half hour clean up the mess they had made. "I wonder how it will be in your universe…" he murmured as they stuffed some red streamers into a trash bag.

"What do you mean?" she asked, taking the last few cookies into the kitchen. He followed her with two trash bags full of rainbow scraps of paper.

"Well, this is technically a television show. You may be in it!" He looked around the living room and kitchen, and with a nod he seems satisfy at their hasty clean up. There were still bits of confetti adorning the floor, but most of it had been picked up. Tabitha made a mental note to take out the vacuum tomorrow to get the rest of it.

"I'm glad I won't have to see it," Tabitha chuckled. She let out a yawn, and the Doctor fluttered around the living room trying to find his coat. His hair flopped around as he bent down to check under the couch. Tabitha leaned against the kitchen entry frame and crossed her hands over her chest, watching him. "I don't think it's there. Check under John's desk."

"Oh, yes, of course!" The Doctor did as he was told and found the coat. He put it on and straightened his tie. He made sure his sonic screwdriver was in his pocket before looking back to Tabitha. "I will take these letters after I get some rest in the TARDIS."

"What about the whole crossing universes thing? You said it wasn't good…"

"I've learned a lot in my 1200 years. I think the old girl and I can figure something out. It's important. I may not be back for a while, though," he added. Tabitha's ears picked up a hint of warning in his voice at the last part.

"Okay," she answered in a low tone.

"You need to be on the watch for statues. Any statues, really, especially Angels. Never blink. They'll take your energy in less than a second! Remember that – always have an eye on them, no matter what." He walked close enough that their toes were touching. His hands landed on her shoulders, and he looked straight into her eyes. "Remember. Do. Not. Blink."

"I'll remember," she whispered, mesmerized by the old soul that swirled in his eyes. He grinned suddenly and pulled away.

"Good! Now, I'm off to deliver the letters. Take care of yourself, Tabitha. I'll be back as soon as I can!"

He left in a flurry of floppy brown hair.

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Sherlock was dozing off when Tabitha stepped into the darkened room. He laid still, on his back with a hand under his head and the other on his stomach, as she slipped off her dress and changed into a tank top and cotton shorts. His body responded to the image of her naked body, and his stomach flipped when she slid under the blankets next to him. She sighed, content, as she snuggled into his side, her head on his chest and her arm wrapped around him. He let a rare smile appear.

"I know you're awake," she commented in a hushed voice. Sherlock hummed a reply and brought the hand under his head down to wrap around her waist. They lay quietly for a while, dozing in and out of sleep. When Tabitha ran a hand softly up his bare chest, his eyes popped open.

"I remember you saying that intercourse was on hold for a while," he murmured with a gravelly voice. Her hand froze on his chest, and she huffed a sigh of annoyance as she pulled her hand back to wrap around his waist.

"It's a good idea. I hate it."

"Have you changed your mind?" he asked hopefully.

"Nope."

"Of course."

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The next month went by rather normally. Tabitha continued to give Mycroft weekly updates on the antics of Sherlock and John, although there was nothing major. They had a lot of cases, and Tabitha kept busy by spending time with Mrs. Hudson or Mary. Detective Inspector Lestrade seemed to pop in more often than he needed to, but Tabitha was glad. There had been no advances from these assassins that were after her, but she made sure she was always with someone.

There had been no contact from the Doctor. Tabitha wasn't surprised, but she hoped he was safe and well. She had taken up the habit of joining Sherlock at the morgue. Molly and she would leave the boys to their own devices as they went up to the cafeteria for a meal or coffee. Tabitha was a bit bashful around the brunette, but after a few moments of conversation, they fell into a nice friendship. Molly admitted to her feelings for the consulting detective, and Tabitha kept her mouth closed about how she had already known.

Tabitha was glad that Molly had moved on. She was dating a man who taught at St. Bart's, and were hitting their six month anniversary. The two woman, along with Mary, turned to each other when the boys were off on a case, or just needed some girl time.

One time in those four weeks, Sherlock and Tabitha discussed going on a 'real date'. He was confused about the whole idea, considering they had spent quiet nights together already. He assumed that the point of a date was to get to know the other person – since he already knew everything about her, what was the point. Tabitha just rolled her eyes and left him to contemplate as she let out her frustrations to John.

Another time, Donovan had accompanied Lestrade to check up on her, and while Lestrade was murmuring to Sherlock and John about a case, she pulled Tabitha to the corner of the room.

"Scott's divorce has gone through," she said quietly.

"Who?"

"Scott… Anderson, that's his first name," Sally sighed, her face showing a bit of irritation.

"Oh! I didn't know that! Well, that's good. I'm glad you guys are figuring it out." Tabitha glanced over at the boys, who were still talking, and saw Sherlock glance in their direction with a suspicious look on his face. She turned back to Sally. "Do you still believe that Sherlock is a freak?"

"Yes, but I don't think he's a killer anymore," she admitted. Sally cleared her throat and straightened her suit jacket. "Sir, we have a few stops to make before we had back to the office."

"Right! Right. Say, have you heard of John Smith? He has information on Tabitha's pursuers," Lestrade asked, looking at each person as he said it. They all shook their heads. "Um, floppy brown hair, wears a bow tie and braces?"

"Oh! Oh, the – John Smith. _That _John Smith," Tabitha chuckled. She tucked her hands into her pockets. "He's gone out of the country. Major emergency, I think."

"Of course," he murmurs, looking a bit frustrated. He sighs and follows Sally to the door.

"What kind of information does he have?" Sherlock asked. Lestrade turned around with a shrug.

"He says to watch out for the Angels. Not sure what that means – maybe a gang of sorts? I'll let you know more once I get more information." They officers left.

After that, Tabitha told Sherlock and John what the Doctor had told her the night he left. She was sure they were skeptical, but since a lot of odd things had happened in the last few weeks, they decided to take what they had and go with it. From then on, someone was with Tabitha at all times.

Now, four weeks after she had last seen the Doctor, she was in the morgue, sitting on a stool next to Molly at one of the lab counters while Sherlock and John poked and prodded at a body. She was dressed in casual jeans and t-shirt with slip on flats, while Molly was wearing khakis and a pink button up t-shirt. They both had their heads propped up on their hands, mirror images, with their elbows on the table. Their hair was up in similar pony tails. They looked like twins, except for their coloring and clothes.

"What's so special about this one?" Tabitha whispered to Molly, keeping her eyes on the men.

"He's supposed to be 23." Tabitha blinked and sat up straight to turn to Molly.

"He looks in his 70s."

"I know. That's what is so confusing. We've run tests to see if he had anything that could make it happen, but he's perfectly healthy. Well, for a man in his 70s."

"Seriously?"

"Tabitha, come here," Sherlock called, standing straight in his signature coat and scarf. John had his arms cross over his chest and looked over as the two women walked toward them. Tabitha stopped at the head and Molly walked to the feet. "What did the Doctor tell you about these Angels?"

"Well," she said, then stopped. Tabitha looked at Molly, waiting for her answer. "Uh, have you told Molly about my… past?"

"No… what do you mean? Does this have to do with these Angels?" Molly asked, confused. Sherlock and John glanced at once another. Tabitha rolled her eyes as the men glanced around the room, making sure no one was coming.

"Oh, come on, I'll tell her," Tabitha smiled. She took a deep breath. "Molly, I know it's weird, but I'm not from here. This universe." Molly's jaw dropped, and she looked at the two men. They both nodded silently. Her eyes went back to Tabitha. "For some reason, a time-slace-space machine sent out a wave of energy for giggles and sent me to this universe, which is a television show in my universe."

"Space machine? What?" Molly looked scared to ask, but curious enough to do so.

"Molly, it's exactly as she said. A Time Lord's TARDIS was damaged, sending out some kind of energy wave, which caused Tabitha to be transported to this universe, which is on the telly in her universe." Sherlock's voice had a hint of impatience in it, and Tabitha smacked his arm with the back of her hand.

"Don't be mean. I know, this is crazy," she said to Molly. "But it's true. I know things that I shouldn't know. Especially about Sherlock and John. Not sure about you, though," she said as an afterthought. Molly looked at both men again, and they watched her for a moment.

"Tabitha, you were saying about the Angels?" John said, finally breaking the silence.

"Oh! Right!" She glanced at Molly, who still had confusion on her face. "Are you alright?"

"Yes. Yes, of course. It… well, oddly enough, it makes sense," she admitted. "Your memory loss would be a good way to cover that up. Does Greg know?"

"Nope!" Tabitha replied. "Now, back to the Angels. He said that they were statues who took my… or _people_'s… energy. He said never to blink, because that's when they move."

"Wait. Statues are the assassins?" John asked wryly.

"The Doctor himself is an alien, so to speak," Sherlock replied.

"Alien?" Molly squeaked. Tabitha sent her a sympathetic look. Everyone else ignored her.

"Why do these statues want Tabitha?" John seemed to be thinking hard, by the look on his face.

"Sebastian Moran."

Everyone turned to look at Tabitha when she said the name.

"I've heard the name before…" John murmured.

"Moriarty's partner," Sherlock answered for him. "Was he mentioned in your universe?"

"Yes, in the books."

"We're in books?" John commented.

"Are you finished with the body?" Molly asked.


	18. How Do I Turn Him Off?

_**This one is extra long because of the unusually long wait! I'm having a few people read it over and give me feedback before I post it, but they haven't responded, so I'm going to post something anyway. This is half of what I had written, so I'm going to have to take a day or so to get back to the right number count to post again! (I try to have 10,000 words written and THEN I post another chapter). **_

_**I hope you enjoy this one!**_

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**CHAPTER 18 - How Do I Turn Him Off?**

"Mycroft may know about these Angels," Tabitha suggested. Sherlock whipped out his phone and made the call, walking to a far corner. As he murmured into the mobile, the three left around the body looked down at it.

"Did Sherlock mention the note?" The woman's heads popped up at the sound of Johns voice. Tabitha shook her head. John rolled his eyes and pulled out a clear evidence bag with a piece of notebook paper on it. He lifted it up so they could see the writing.

"_Beware the Weeping Angels. They take your time, leaving you with nothing_," Molly read out loud. They all took a deep breath. "It's repeated multiple times, filling the paper," Molly pointed out. John put it back on the table next to the body.

"He really wanted someone to know about these," Tabitha responded.

"Mycroft will be meeting us at our flat. Come, John, Tabitha." With that, Sherlock hurriedly left the room. John mumbled to himself, irritated with Sherlock for doing that all the time. Tabitha gave Molly a quick hug before saying a goodbye and leaving the area. The ride home in the cab was quiet, with Tabitha and Sherlock in the back while John sat across from them. Sherlock took her hand in his, something that was a new development in their relationship.

The first time he had done it was a few weeks back, just after the confetti party. They had been taking a walk to the library, as Tabitha insisted and Sherlock wouldn't let her go alone. He took her hand on the way back, while pretending he didn't even register their touch. She had just smiled.

Now, in the back of the cab, he glanced over at her with a small smile, a simple acknowledgement of their touch. John didn't miss it, but covered his mouth to hide a smile as he looked out the car door.

"How's Mary? I haven't seen her in the last week," Tabitha asked, trying out a new topic of conversation.

"She was at her parents," John answered. "I meet her there tomorrow."

"Meeting the parents. You've never been with a woman long enough to do that," Sherlock said, making it sound like an insult. John gave him a look, and Sherlock sighed. "I meant it in the best way."

"I know," John countered. "Unfortunately, I know."

They all chuckled for the rest of the short ride to the flat.

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Just as Sherlock said, Mycroft was waiting at the flat, looking out the window. He was wearing one of his usual suits, and Tabitha grinned at the cane in his hand. The tenants of the flat took off their coats, hung them on the pegs near the door, and went on with their usual routine after coming home from the morgue. John went to his desk to blog, Sherlock to the kitchen table with experiments, and Tabitha to the kitchen to cut up some apples and oranges to snack on.

"How are you feeling, Tabitha?" Mycroft asked, turning from his place at the window to look at her across two rooms. Although Tabitha was certain she had never told him she was actually pregnant, she knew that he was talking specifically about that. She turned around with a bowl of fruit in her hand and placed a hand on her stomach as she made her way to the couch.

"Great, but I'm sure in the next few weeks I'll feel like crap," she commented with a smile, nibbling on an apple as he leaned back. Mycroft nodded, but she saw a slight smile on his lips. A real smile, not something put in place to show. Sherlock sent a smirk to his brother, then went back to his project.

"You should make a doctor's appointment in the next few days, my dear," he replied, touching some papers that were on the desk next to him. John looked up from his laptop, and reached out to pull the papers toward him. Mycroft just raised an eyebrow and walked over to the couch. He stood next to it as he surveyed the men and woman. "Now, on to important matters. The Weeping Angels."

Everyone's heads slowly turned up to look at the older Holmes brother, silently waiting for him to go on. When he stared back with no words, Sherlock huffed an irritated sigh.

"Yes, the Angels. I assume they are aliens, like the Doctor?"

"You know the Doctor?" asked Tabitha.

"I know of him – I met him a month ago for the first time," Mycroft countered. "This man, well, non-human, I suppose, has been in classified documents for a long, long time."

"Obviously," Sherlock muttered, pouring a bit of chemical into a beaker.

"Angels, Mycroft, what about the Weeping Angels?" John asked.

"The body you look at today – he was taken by the Angels a few days ago back into time."

"Wouldn't time just rewrite and make him the right age? Why didn't they change in the records?"

"It seems Moran wanted you to find the body."

"Why is he after me?" Tabitha asked, touching her stomach.

"Because Sherlock took the one person he loved more than anything." Mycroft picked up his phone and began to text. "Revenge, I suppose."

"I'm better," Sherlock mumbled with an edge to his voice. His hands tightened around the microscope knobs visibly.

"At what?" Tabitha smirked, remembering he actor who played in him her own universe saying the same thing in Star Trek.

"Everything."

Tabitha couldn't hold it in – she cackled with abandonment. The three men stared at her with confusion on their faces. She took a few deep breaths as she tried to calm down, wiping tears away from her eyes.

"What now?" Sherlock probed.

"It's… it's from my… universe!" she replied, having to pause with laughter every now and then.

"Of course it is," he grumbled. His eyes went back to his microscope. John leaned back in his chair, his finger on his chin thoughtfully.

"Are you going to explain?"

"Maybe later. I'm sorry," she apologized. Tabitha blew out a heavy breath and grinned. "I'm done. Now, Moran wants to get to me to fuck with Sherlock – got it. So these Angels, they take you out of this time and put you in the past, feeding on the energy of the traveling."

Sherlock and John snorted at the curse word.

"Yes, I assume so. How did you get that?"

"She's clever, Mycroft. My child's mother can be nothing but intelligent."

"Thank you, Sherlock." Sherlock grunted his answer back.

"The statues the Doctor told you about – these were the Angels?" John asked, now distracted from his blogging. His chair was turned from the desk to face the open room. Tabitha finished nibbling on her apples and oranges and got up to put the dishes in the sink. She'd do them later tonight, after their dinner. She also made a mental note to contact a doctor for an appointment.

She made her way over to Sherlock and leaned against the table next to him, her hip on the edge and her arms crossed over her chest. He glanced out of the corner of her eye at her stomach, which was next to his face. It lingered, and a warm feeling settled into Tabitha's body.

"Yes. He said that they move when no one is looking."

"That's what 'Don't Blink' means." Sherlock mumbled thoughtfully. "Well, that's easy enough. We'll keep you away from statues, and if there is one around, we'll make sure someone has their eye on them so you can get away."

"They can get to you, too, Sherlock," Mycroft said softly. Sherlock ignored him, but Tabitha and John shared a worried look. "Well, that is all I have for you. Good day. Tabitha, appointment, remember." He looked pointedly at her, and then left.

"John, if this liquid turns pink in the next hour or so, text me. Tabitha, we have research to do," Sherlock stated, standing up. He took Tabitha's hand and pulled her from her position against the table. She followed him to the couch, sat down next to him, and watched as he put that laptop on his lap and started typing. Tabitha was surprised when she saw what he was searching.

"You want me to text you even though you're in the same room?"

"Obstetricians in the area?"

"Yes. Mycroft is right – now would be a good time to make an appointment. It's been approximately six weeks, so it would be safe to say that it would be recognizable to a home pregnancy test." She hummed and nodded, then leaned back to watch him search and read through different profiles of doctors. It didn't take long for him to turn the laptop toward her. "It'll be easier to get my attention if you text me, John."

"I'm fine with whoever you like." Tabitha looked at the picture on the screen. A mature man, with brown and silver hair. He was wearing a polo shirt and khakis, smiling into the camera while crouching down next to a little girl around two.

"Doctor Rory Williams. In his 50s, has been working in the medical field for 30 years, been an obstetrician for the last 15 years. I'll make sure to do a thorough background check to make sure he is suitable." Sherlock turned the laptop back toward him and started pounding away at the keys.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you kind of like the idea of having a family," Tabitha murmured with a small smile. She pushed a curl behind his ear softly. He hummed a response and she saw him stiffen a bit at her touch. She sighed, but kept smiling.

"I'm just making sure my child has the best care. My mother did not raise me to do anything less," Sherlock answered. Tabitha looked at John.

"Have you met his mother?"

"The only family I've met is Mycroft."

"Unfortunately." Tabitha poked Sherlock's arm with a chuckle.

"When do I get to meet your mother?"

Sherlock's hands stopped, hovering over the keys. He sat straight and put the laptop on the coffee table. John and Tabitha watched in confusion as he stood up and walk to his bedroom.

"What as that all about?" she asked worriedly.

"The only time I've heard either of the Holmes brothers speak about their mum was when they were fighting," he answered softly. They both looked down the hallway, listening to see if Sherlock would be making some kind of noise. The only thing they heard was silence.

"Maybe you should go check on him…" Tabitha suggested, placing a hand on her stomach thoughtfully.

"Why me?"

"Because you're his best friend. Besides, I have a doctor to call."

John stared at Tabitha for a moment, and then gave in with a grunt as he pushed himself out of his chair. He walked down the hallway and stopped at Sherlock's closed door. He placed an ear to the door, but didn't hear anything troublesome. He knocked, and was surprised when the door opened. Sherlock had shed his suit jacket, but kept his white button up shirt, dress pants, and shoes on. His sleeves were rolled up, and a rubber ball was in his hands.

"So, want to talk about it?"

"No," he answered, but stepped back to let his friend in. John nodded and walked in. Sherlock closed the door behind John and then sat on the floor at the end of the bed. He began to bounce the ball, hitting the wall, and catching it again in his hand. He did this a few more times, and then John caught the ball as it bounced back to Sherlock.

"What's so bad about Tabitha meeting your mother?" John watched Sherlock glare at the wall. "Sherlock, it's important. You never talk about her. Why?"

"She's dead," he grumbled, grabbing the ball back and bouncing it hard against the wall. It landed in his hand with a _thwack_, and he did it again. "She was worse than Mycroft."

"Mycroft may be a stalker, but he does it for your own good. Are you angry at him because he helped you get clean?" John asked, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets. Sherlock continued to glare at the wall, but stopped bouncing the ball. He turned his hard gaze down to the rubber ball in his hand.

"Logically, I shouldn't be angry with them…" Sherlock tapered off, studying the ball in his hand but not really looking at it.

"You've kept some resentment towards them because they made you something you didn't want to do?" That didn't surprise John, but his next words did.

"No. I resent them because they made me do something that I shouldn't have had to do in the first place."

"Oh." John watched his friend, seeing a new emotion in his eyes. Shame. He was ashamed of his drug-addicted past. It made him seem even more human that John knew him to be inside. "Well, it's a good time to put that in the past and move forward."

"I suppose you're right," Sherlock answered with a sigh. They heard a knock and turned to see Tabitha peeking her head in.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yes." Sherlock stood up and threw the ball into a basket in the corner of the room. Tabitha raised an eyebrow.

"I made an appointment in three days to see Doctor Williams."

"Good," Sherlock replied.

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Three weeks later, at the beginning of here ninth week of pregnancy, the morning sickness hit. It was the third morning in a row she had woken up to throw up in the bathroom. Tabitha groaned, kneeling in front of the porcelain bowl after flushing it. She heard Sherlock sigh with irritation from the bed, just like he did every morning the past three days. Usually, she would just push it away, knowing it was just how Sherlock was, but this morning she felt a bit differently. She glared at the door, glared at herself in the mirror as she brushed her teeth, and glared at Sherlock as he dozed on the bed as she put on her usual cotton shorts and tank top.

She reached forward after she was finished and yanked the comforter off Sherlock, tossing it to the floor. He sat up with confusion on his face.

"What's wrong?"

"You, you big jerk. I'm heaving up my insides and you make it sound like I'm killing a man!"

"It's morning sickness, not death. Can't you be quieter?"

"Be quieter?" Tabitha repeated, amazed at what she had just heard. Sherlock grunted back and rolled onto his side, in a fetal position. Tabitha growled and jumped on top of him. She rolled him and pinned his hands on either side of his head. "Sherlock Holmes. I am pregnant. With your child. The way you act, you wouldn't care if I decided to get rid of it. _What do you want?"_

Sherlock stared up at her, surprise coming over his features.

"What do you mean get rid of it? Of course I care. Why do you say that?"

"Because you are the equivalent of a brick wall when it comes to emotions. I'm so tired of giving you all I've got, and getting nothing in return!" Tabitha picked up a pillow from the bed, threw it at Sherlock's face, and stomped to the living room.

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Sherlock stared at the door, quickly running through the last evening and night to see if he had done anything wrong. His comments a few moments ago were admittedly in bad taste, but they weren't harsh enough to make such an assumption that he didn't care. He did care – he cared so much it made him crave more than a cigarette. He growled, annoyed, and got up to search for a nicotine patch. He found two and stuck them to his arm.

After putting his dressing gown over his blue pajama pants and gray shirt, he walked into the living room barefoot. John and Mary were dressed casually in jeans and jumpers looking through the papers in the case file they had picked up the night before. He didn't see Tabitha, but heard her sniffling in the kitchen. He peeked around the corner, saw her sitting at the table with her arms on the table, her forehead touching the wood.

John glanced at Sherlock, than gestured with his head toward Tabitha. Talk to her – of course he'd suggest that. Having a conversation is what started this little tiff. He frowned at John and made his way to his office space.

"Sherlock!" Mary whispered, scowling at him. She pointed to Tabitha's back. "Go!" Sherlock glared back, and the three of them stared at each other, not backing down. Sherlock huffed and turned toward the kitchen. Mary and John shared a look of triumph.

Sherlock approached Tabitha, and heard another sniff. He heard the small sounds of crying coming from her, and felt his chest constrict. Contrary to her beliefs, he did feel everything when it came to her. He stared at her back for a moment, glancing back to his friends. They gestured reassuringly to go ahead. He softly reached out and touched her shoulder. Her body stiffened under his touch, and she slowly raised her head. He pulled his hand back.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you, Sherlock," she apologized softly. He almost thanked her, out of habit, but caught himself. He'd been reading up on what to expect when pregnant – it must be her hormones working overtime. He would have to watch what he said, now.

"No, don't apologize." He took a seat next to her. She looked at him, her gray eyes bright with tears, and her cheeks stained red. She sniffed, and he took her hands in his, turning their bodies in the chairs so they faced one another. He studied her for a moment, thinking about how pretty she was, with her strawberry blonde hair flowing over her shoulders, a bit messy from sleep. "I'm trying, I swear. I'm sorry I'm not learning as quickly as I should." He felt John and Mary join her stare at him. He cleared his throat, and had to force himself to keep their hands together. "Remember when you insisted to John that I could love, as a partner in marriage, in life?"

Tabitha nodded. He had to swallow to get up the courage to say the next words. It was humiliating to confess such archaic feelings, but he knew it was needed right now.

"I'm beginning to believe it, as well."

"Thank you," Tabitha whispered, new tears forming in her eyes. They started to fall freely as she wrapped her arms around Sherlock's neck. He panicked at the fact that she was crying.

"I didn't mean to make you cry!" he said, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"Shut up, its tears of joy, you dimwit," Tabitha laughed, pulling back and kissing him. He closed his eyes as he breathed in her vanilla smell, moving his lips softly against hers. Tentatively, he touched his tongue to hers, then pulled back abruptly. Their breathing had increased a bit.

"I'm sorry. I'll stop."

"For now," Tabitha agreed, pulling away fully. They untangled their arms from each other. John and Mary were busy sorting and looking at the papers, although it was a bit exaggerated, if you asked Tabitha. "We will go out tonight. As a date. Officially."

"That… that's what we should do. It's… it's expected of a couple to go out on dates," Sherlock agreed, trying his best to hide the giddy feeling coming into his mind. Dating wasn't new to him, from a few experiences in college and living with John, but he admitted to himself he had no idea what to do. He'd converse with John about it.

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Later that day, Tabitha placed a call to Dr. Williams, asking if there was anything she could safely to do make the morning sickness less frequent. She liked the man – he was lively, loved children, and couldn't stop talking about his wife and daughter, Amy and Melody. Although when he mentioned Melody, it seemed like he was trying his hardest not to spill some important secret. Not that it was any of her business, of course.

The boys were out for the afternoon, so she lounged on the couch with her feet propped up. In the past few weeks, she had taken more naps then she had ever done before. She picked up her phone to fire out a few texts.

**Sherlock update: We are going on a date tonight. Christmas is in three weeks. Are you coming to the party?** – to Mycroft

**I'll be working.** – MH

**If you both are able, tomorrow we should go on a baby spree – I need to make a list of stuff I need** – to Molly and Mary

**I can work it into the morning!** – Mx

**Tomorrow morning is free!** – MM

**How is the morning sickness, love**? – The Woman

**Kills me every morning. Are my stalkers getting closer?** – TH

**I haven't heard anything** – The Woman

**Would you tell me?** – TH

**Yes** – The Woman

**Where are we going?** – to Sherlock

**What?** – SH

**On our date** – TH

**I'm working on it** – SH

Tabitha looked out the window – the sun was out, making it look like a perfect day, but she knew that it was freezing out. She thought about the different places Sherlock may take her – a normal date was out of the question. She'd mentioned to John how she liked to go somewhere other than a dinner and a movie. Hopefully he passed it onto Sherlock – she counted on it.

Starting to feel restless, she placed a phone call to Mary.

"I was just going to call you!" her friend exclaimed as soon as she picked up.

"Oh, what for?"

"John and I have been dating for over two months…"

"Yes?" Tabitha wasn't sure where this was going.

"Is it too soon to be hopelessly, absolutely in love with the man?"

Tabitha laughed.

"Of course not! Do you realize who you're talking to? I was in love with Sherlock before I even met him in person!"

"That is very true. And since you've told me about us getting married in the future, I can't stop thinking about a family with him."

"Have you talked to John about this?"

"Oh, god, no, he'll think I'm moving too fast, and I'll scare him off!"

"I doubt it. Talk to him."

"You think so?"

"Oh, yeah," Tabitha answered with a smile. She picked at some lint that was on the couch arm next to her.

"Fine! I'll talk to him. What did you want?"

"Oh! I was just bored. The boys are gone, and Mrs. Hudson is rarely around since she began dating the baker. Molly is always working, too."

"You could always bother Lestrade or Mycroft. I think the Mycroft actually likes you. I can't believe the boys left you alone!"

"They know Mycroft is watching," Tabitha answered, eyeing the small camera attached to the ceiling fan. She gave a little wave, and her phone beeped. "I gotta go. I'll chat with you later. Tell me all about the conversation after you have it with John!" Mary laughed as Tabitha hung up. She placed a hand over her stomach as she looked at her screen.

**Where are Sherlock and John?** – MH

**Off on a case** – TH

**He should have left someone with you** – MH

**I suppose I could call Lestrade** – TH

**Don't worry – I'll get someone over there **– MH

Tabitha sighed, knowing there was no point in arguing.

**Your brother is upset that you left me alone** – to Sherlock

It took a moment for her to get a text back.

**Sherlock is yelling at me for not staying with you** – JW

**But he asked you to go with him!** – TH

**I know. How do I turn him off?** – JW

Tabitha laughed as she heard footsteps coming up the stairs. She tensed up, watching the door suspiciously, waiting for someone to enter. A knock sounded, and some of her anxiety floated away. She stood up and opened the door, finding the Doctor standing there. Grinning, she let out an excited cry and hugged him tightly. He hugged her back, then took her shoulders in his hands and pushed her back.

"Oh, look at you! All glowy and pregnant! Why aren't you showing? You are still pregnant, right?" He pulled at the ends of her long hair and flicked it off her shoulder.

"Of course! I'm only 9 weeks – I won't start showing for another month or two," Tabitha laughed, pulling him in and closing the door. She leaned back against the door as the Doctor explored the room for anything new. He was dressed in the same white shirt, braces, trousers, and tweed jacket. His bowtie was black at the moment. "Where have you been? Did Mycroft call you?"

"Yes. It's been six weeks since I left, yeah?" the Doctor muttered, his attention skirting around the room. He found the skull, still in its place, and picked it up, looking under it. He hummed as he pulled out a piece of paper.

"Yeah. What's that?" Tabitha asked, walking up to him. She peeked over his shoulder as he unfolded the white paper to show writing.

"A note from Moran."

"What!" Tabitha exclaimed, her stomach started to flip with paranoia. She looked frightfully around the room with a hand on her stomach. "When was he here?"

"No idea," the Doctor muttered.

They read the note silently.

_The Angels are coming for you. Their attack is worse than death. You'll have to live with never seeing your lovely bride-to-be again, knowing she's in the past somewhere, where you can never have her._

It was signed with a flourished Sebastian Moran at the bottom.

"Obviously meant for Sherlock," the Doctor stated, holding it up to the light and squinted at it. Tabitha gulped and sat walked over to the couch to sit down. She sent a quick text to Sherlock saying that Moran left a note under the skull. Tabitha knew Sherlock, or John at least, would be running back here. She felt sick, anxiety creeping into her body. She began to take deep, shallow breathes, and she struggled to calm down. The Doctor sensed her panic, and quickly put the letter back where it was and sat next to her.

"I'm not panicking," Tabitha said, but they both knew it wasn't true. The Doctor put a hand on her back.

"Of course you aren't. Let's breathe together. In. Out. In. Out…" the Doctor and Tabitha did that for a few moments. Tabitha was back to normal when Sherlock burst into the room, followed by a worried party. Mrs. Hudson, Mary, Molly, and Lestrade where peeking around from Sherlock's body.

"Tabitha." Sherlock's voice made everyone step back to give him room to get to her. He crouched down in front of her, taking her hands, holding and resting them on her lap. "Did you see him?"

"No," she said, taking another breathe. I never saw him come and go. The Doctor found his note under the skull." She gestured with her head over to the Doctor, who was watching with the rest of the group.

"Why don't I make some tea? Girls, come into the kitchen, let the boys do their job," Mrs. Hudson said. Mary, Molly, and Tabitha followed her into the kitchen. The gathered around the counter as the Doctor, John, Sherlock, and Lestrade huddled near the skull on the mantel.

Tabitha felt suddenly weak in the knees.

"I think I need to sit down," she said as she began to feel light-headed. Molly and Mary pulled up a chair and sat her in it. Mrs. Hudson went to work putting the kettle on the stovetop.

"Are you okay?"

"Do you need something to eat?"

"Do you need to rest?"

The three women stared down at Tabitha, concern on their face. She blinked, trying to keep from fainting. She breathed through her nose, eyes closed. She opened them when she felt a bit better.

"I think I'm okay. Yes, maybe some crackers. Probably need to rest, but I don't want to miss anything," she replied, answering all the questions the women had thrown at her. Molly checked around for the crackers, squeaking a bit when she opened a cabinet to see a pile of who-knows-what next to a can of beans. "I have no idea what that is – I told Sherlock he can deal with it," Tabitha confessed, wrinkling her nose.

"Well, there is no smell…" Molly murmured as she grabbed a box of crackers. She handed it over to Tabitha. The women turned to look at the men as the water boiled.

"Moran. You have to have something on Sebastian Moran! This is clearly a threat!" John shouted, looking angrily at Lestrade. The detective looked back at him helplessly.

"I promise to see what I can find, but so far there is nothing linking him to any criminal activity. The best I can do is have a chat with him!" Lestrade held up his hands, defeated. John huffed and stomped to his desk. He put his head in his hands, elbows resting on the table. Mary immediately made her way to her boyfriend and put her hands on his shoulders to comfort him. Mrs. Hudson turned as the kettle shrieked, and Molly stood next to Tabitha with a hand on her mouth worriedly.

"Obviously, I'll be doing that," Sherlock interjected, straightening the coat that he hadn't taken off yet. He put on his gloves and straightened his scarf around his neck. Tabitha frowned and stood up, setting the box of crackers on the table. She walked to him and touched his arm. He glanced down at her as his hand gripped the door knob.

"I don't think that's a good idea. He wants you, you can't just show up at his doorstep," she told him, frustrated. He rolled his eyes.

"Of course I can."

"No, you can't, not when I'm pregnant. We can't take the risk of something happening to you!"

Everyone was silent as they watched Sherlock's face turn from boredom to confusion.

"Why am I so important? You are the one that is pregnant."

"I refuse to be without you." Tabitha stared up into his eyes, determination all over her face. Sherlock stared back, a bit surprised at the statement. That warm feeling that came when he was around Tabitha appeared again in his chest. He felt his eyes misting, and blinked them away as quickly as he could. He prayed that no one saw it.

"I suppose it is best for the child if I let Detective Inspector Lestrade handle it. John, you'll join him," he demanded, pulling off his gloves. No one said anything about the quick emotional exchange between the couple. John and Lestrade agreed and huddled at the desk to discuss a time. Molly, Mary, and Mrs. Hudson exchanged knowing smiles as they finished up making the tea. The Doctor leaned against the window, glancing outside every now and then.

Sherlock took of his cost and scarf, leaving only his trousers, shoes, and blue button up shirt on. He took a seat on the couch and began to type on the laptop. Tabitha saw that he was going through his blog. She took a seat next to him, watching him type. Mrs. Hudson brought a tray with mugs sitting on it, and sat it on the coffee table.

"Here is some tea," she pointed out with a smile.

"Oh, thank you, but I need to get back to the office. I'll check the paper for fingerprints, and get back to you, John." They all murmured a good-bye as the detective left. Molly's phone went off and she looked at it. She read the text with a smile.

"I … I have to take this. I'll talk you later, yeah? Tomorrow, baby shopping!" She went out the door with a wave. Mrs. Hudson followed her. John raised an eyebrow at Mary.

"Do you think it's safe for you to go out shopping?"

"There will be three of us – we'll watch each other's backs," she answered with a glare over her mug as she sipped her tea. John raised his arms to give in. Mary winked at Tabitha, and Tabitha smiled back, sipping her own tea out of the mug.

"I'll volunteer to go with the girls, if you want me to," the Doctor interrupted. The four of them stared at him. He frowned. "What? I can protect them."

"With your magic screwdriver?" Sherlock mumbled.

"Sonic screwdriver, and yes!"

"I don't see why not," Mary commented.

"Good. I'll be around tomorrow morning to get the day started!" The Doctor whirled around, making sure to touch everyone on the arm or shoulder as he said goodbye. Mary, John, and Tabitha murmured a goodbye as he left.

Tabitha put down her mug and picked another up. She turned to Sherlock and touched the mug to his arm. He waved it away, his eyes still locked on the laptop. He was researching Moran, and was looking frustrated with the results.

"Drink some tea, Sherlock," Tabitha said. He glanced at her, then took the mug with a sigh. He murmured to himself as he sipped the tea and sat it down beside the other mugs. Mary took a mug to John, and kissed him.

"Have you figured out where you are going for your date?" John asked, glancing up at Mary standing beside him with a smirk. Tabitha turned to look at Sherlock. It took a moment for Sherlock to look over at the people staring at him.

"What?" he asked.

"You know what," John chuckled.

"I have a plan, don't worry," Sherlock said, smirking at Tabitha.

"Oh? What is that?"

"Be ready by six. Walking shoes, please." He stood up and made his way to his bedroom. Tabitha watched him, amused and curious.


	19. Mother Dearest

_**Shorter than the last few, but still interesting! I hope anyway. I am finally winding down with the story, and I have to figure out if I want to do a full sequel or a one-shot epilogue thing. I may to the full sequel, and add more references to Tabitha's universe. Just a thought**_

**SEX AT THE END - Mature chapter!**

* * *

**CHAPTER 19 - Mother Dearest**

Mycroft watched from his spot behind a tree as his brother and Tabitha strolled along the winding sidewalk through the park. It was a chilly evening – both of them were wrapped in coats and scarves. They were holding hands, not talking, just walking and enjoying each other's company. Sherlock's face was a rare mix of relaxation and happiness – it was odd for Mycroft to see.

There wasn't any real need for him to be watching them. The alien statues were getting closer, but slower in their attacks. He still had no idea where Moran was – it was like he was a ghost, just like Moriarty. As a government official, he had a duty to protect his country, and its people. As a brother, though, he had a duty to protect his family. That was why he was here instead of sitting at his desk.

Mycroft watched silently as Sherlock stopped, turning around to face Tabitha. They had walked to a gazebo that was situated in an open space of the park. He took her hands, holding them in between their figures, and smiled down at her. She looked suspiciously up at him, although a teasing smile graced her lips. Mycroft felt a sadness descend in him – Mother would have been excited and amazing to see Sherlock so smitten with a woman. A good woman, at that.

Sherlock murmured, and Mycroft smirked at the obvious struggle Sherlock was having with whatever words he was saying. They must have been emotional – the Holmes's were not known for their sensitive words. The looks on the couple's faces told Mycroft that he was correct. He heard a rustling next to him, and glanced to the side. He saw his assistant, Anthea, signaling him. Instead of a dress, she was wearing dark jeans and a dark coat to blend in with the night, just as he was.

He quickly turned away from the couple and made his way silently to his assistant.

"Sir, there was an attack at the edge of London," she informed him in a low voice. He nodded and headed toward their dark car. She followed.

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"We don't have to get married straight away, Sherlock," Tabitha reassured the man, squeezing his hands that were between their bodies. He frowned down at her.

"It's better financially and legally if –"

"Are you ready?"

"What?"

"Sherlock. I know it's hard for you to think emotionally, but the last seven weeks you have been doing really well at being, well, sensitive." Sherlock rolled his eyes, but still held onto her hands. "Well, for you, anyway," she chuckled. She stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, and his frown turned into a small smile. "We have time before the baby gets here. We should focus on getting ready for the next seven months, instead of planning a wedding."

"It's as easy as signing a contract," Sherlock pointed out.

"Maybe it is for you, but I love you and I want it to be special. Deal with it," she added with a grin. Sherlock stared down at her frozen. He took his hands away from hers, stuck them in his pocket and turned around. He stared into the distance, glaring at the trees in the dark. Tabitha realized what she had just told him – she loved him. Love, the one thing that Sherlock Holmes completely does not believe in.

"Mycroft was watching us." That made Tabitha look out into the darkness herself.

"What?"

"Don't worry, he's just making sure you were safe."

"I'm sure he was thinking about you, too."

"Hm," was all Sherlock replied. Tabitha clasped her hands together in front of her and breathed slowly, watching the cold night air make her breathe visible. After a long moment of uneasy silence, she opened her mouth to speak. Sherlock held up his hand to quiet her, his back still turned away. "This sentiment I feel that is specific to you is terrifying," he admitted.

Tabitha was surprised at this confession. Sherlock may have been, as well, as that could be why he had to turn around before saying it ou tloud.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, feeling tears welling up in her eyes. She swallowed hard and took a deep breath to keep them from spilling down her cheeks. She sniffed.

"Don't apologize, love," Sherlock replied, his voice soothing her nerves. She let a small smile over her lips. "You fascinate me, you arouse me, you interest me, and you trust me."

"That's good, right?"

"Love is a chemical reaction. I know this. Why do people call this love? It's… it's emotional, painful even, and it makes me want to put your needs before mine. This isn't love. This is… is…"

"Special?"

Sherlock thought silently about Tabitha's reply. Distinguished by some unusual quality – that was one of the definitions for the word special. This relationship with Tabitha was quite unusual. He liked her presence, her mind, her voice, her body… the list went on. He would never tell a soul, but the thought of having a child with her was growing on him quickly. What made it different from any other sexual relationship he had?

Feelings. It was all sentiment with her. Terrifying, but also electrifying. He came back to the world, feeling guilty that he had made his fiancée stand in the cold, waiting for him to get done with his personal thoughts. He turned around, and found her sitting on the wooden bench that went all the way around the gazebo edge. She was leaning back with a smile on her face. Her small nose was red, her gray eyes were sleepy, and her long curly hair was splayed out over her coat. Her feet were crossed as they sat on the ground, and her arms were crossed over her chest, probably to keep her hands warm.

"How long?"

"About ten minutes."

"You could have left."

"I could have. But I didn't."

"That's why this is special," he said softly, smiling softly down at her. She grinned up at him.

"Exactly. Do you understand now?"

"I think so," he answered. He sighed and looked out into the darkness again. Tabitha stood up and joined him at the railing on the other side the gazebo. She stood close, and their arms pressed against one another. She leaned her head on his shoulder, her arms still crossed over her chest. He was leaning slightly forward on the railing.

"That's good enough, for now."

"No it isn't," he replied, gazing into the darkness but not truly looking at it. Tabitha rolled her eyes and stood up straight, looking at him.

"Yes, it is, I know you. I don't want you to change – I like the way you are. I know you care about me, I trust you, that's good enough." She looked at him, determination on her face.

"I do care about you," Sherlock agreed. He swallowed, and quickly made up his mind. "If this is love, then it's not as daunting as I thought it was."

"Oh?" Tabitha answered, leaning back onto his shoulder. She barely breathed as she waited for him to answer.

"I like it."

"I like it, too," she answered with a smile. Sherlock stood up and put an arm around her waist, pulling her close to his front. She looked up at him, placing her hands on his chest.

Their eyes locked, and it was like both were finally open to the possibilities in front of them. Her lips parted slightly, he let his emotions swirl into his eyes, and Tabitha pushed up on her tip toes to kiss his lips softly. He placed the other arm around her waist, holding her close, as their lips moved softly and slowly over one another. Her eyes fluttered shut, and he watched her through half-lidded eyes himself. His tongue touched her lips, and she pulled away.

He pouted at her.

"This was a great date. Shopping at an old bookstore, seeing a museum of odd things, and taking a stroll through a darkened park. Do you know what happens after a date?"

"I walk you home and kiss you at the door?"

"We get naked and have sex against your bedroom door."

"John's never got that kind of date," Sherlock grinned. They raced through the park to catch a cab home.

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The Doctor, Lestrade, and Mycroft were the only people in the abandoned apartment building. The three of them looked down at the body they were circled around. The Doctor had changed up his look a bit – his braces were red, his bowtie red, and his jack was black this time. Lestrade was in his usual button up shirt, jacket, and trousers. Mycroft was still wearing his dark clothes from an hour earlier.

"It looks like he just… dried up," Lestrade said, wrinkling his noise.

"The Angels just sucked his time away, didn't even give him a chance," the Doctor murmured, a sad frown on his face. "Who is this man?" He glanced over at the two other men. Lestrade took out a small notepad, and opened his mouth to answer. Mycroft beat him.

"Stanley Wilcox. Special informant to my office."

"He wanted you to find the body?" the Doctor asked.

"I should call this in…" Lestrade mumbled, taking out his phone.

"No!" Mycroft and the Doctor exclaimed. Lestrade narrowed his eyes at them.

"No, Detective Inspector," Mycroft explained. "This is not your division" Mycroft turned to the Doctor. Lestrade watched them a bit confused.

"Whose is it then?"

"Mine," the Doctor answered, his voice low and soft. Mycroft and he shared a glance.

"How so?" Lestrade asked slowly.

"Aliens. Aliens are my thing. Beings who are not of this Earth. Protecting humans is my division." Lestrade stared at the two men with his mouth hanging down.

"Aliens? Bloody hell, are you on drugs?" he exclaimed. He took out his phone again, and Mycroft reached out. He took the phone and threw it on the ground, stomping on it a few times. Lestrade and the Doctor stared at the mess with wide eyes.

"I'll get you a new one," Mycroft stated in an even tone. He cleared his throat and pushed away the pieces of the phone. "And yes, aliens. The Doctor, here, is one himself."

The Doctor grinned and wiggled his fingers at Lestrade. The man just stared.

"I have two hearts. And a TARDIS."

"Greg, if you don't believe him, believe me," Mycroft said with his eyebrows raised. Lestrade moved his gaze back and forth between the two men. His shoulders sagged in defeat.

"Oh, come on!" he mumbled to himself. He glared at Mycroft. "Phone, tomorrow morning, my desk." Mycroft just sniffed at him and turned his head down to the body. The three men crouched down at the same time, looking for evidence, and the Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver. Mycroft glanced at it and then back, while Lestrade stared at it. "What is that?"

"Sonic screwdriver. It'll give us information about Stanley Wilcox." The Doctor pressed the button on the side, making a noise. Lestrade grimaced, and watched warily as the Doctor scanned the body. He hummed and let out a few exclamations as the other two men waited impatiently for him to explain. Finally, the Doctor pulled back and stood up. The two other men followed suit.

"Stanley Wilcox. 25. Informant to Mycroft Holmes –"

"That's old news," Lestrade scuffed.

"I'm just reading off what she says," he said, holding up the device. "This was the last place he was alive. There are statues a block away, yeah?" The two men nodded. "Right. Those are our angels. They seemed to be hungry, ravenous even. Sebastian Moran may be starving them, training them this way."

"How the hell is he training them?" Mycroft exclaimed with frustration.

"How else do you enslave creatures? Blackmail," the Doctor answered.

"Moran has something that they want. As soon as they do what they agreed to do for him, they get it back," Lestrade said, starting to get the picture.

"What would these creatures have that was so important to them?"

"Their mother."

Lestrade and Mycroft blinked at the Doctor, who was grinning with the new information.

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Sherlock was glad that John was at Mary's, again, for the night. It took a lot of willpower to get up the stairs and take of his coat without looking anxious to strip the woman naked. His hands gave him away, though, shaking with the effort. Tabitha grinned and painfully, slowly, took of her coat. She faced him and pulled her sweater over her head. His favorite yellow lacy bra showed against her pale skin. He gulped back a whimper as she unbuttoned her pants slowly.

He stared at her stomach, more firm because of the pregnancy, but not showing anything. He watched her graceful hands take ahold of her jeans and slowly slide them down her legs. He caught a glimpse of her yellow lace bikini pants, and his mouth went dry. How long had it been since they'd had sex? Seven weeks? He'd gone much longer than that, and this never happened.

Must be the 'special' feelings she lighted in him. His eyes roamed up her body as she kicked off her boats and pants quickly. She put her hands on her hips, standing only in her undergarments in the middle of the living room. His body was tight and hot with need, and she knew it. Tabitha grinned at him, flicked her hair off her shoulder, and sashayed down the hall to his bedroom. He growled at her and started to unbutton his blue shirt as he followed her.

When they made it to the bedroom, his pants were unbuttoned, and his shirt hung loosely on his torso. She stepped close, putting a hand on his shoulders. His hands found her waist and squeezed tightly as he hands roamed down his chest slowly. His nipples hardened in response, and Tabitha bit her lip, staring at his chest.

"Fast or slow?" he asked, his voice hoarse. She laughed as she looked up at him.

"I like how we usually do."

"Obviously," he growled, turning her around so her back was against the closed door. She gasped as Sherlock picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. His lips were on her neck, nipping and licking. Her hands ran up from his shoulders into his hair, moaning as his tongue found that one spot at her neck that made her slick between her legs. He rubbed his hardness against her yellow pants, and groaned into her neck. She pulled at his hair enough to get up to pull back, and pressed her lips hard against his. Their tongues fought together as one hand of his moved to flick at her clit. She groaned and raised her hips to get closer, and his other hand squeezed her bottom.

"Don't make me wait, you jerk," she bite out with a moan.

"We have all night, darling," he teased into her ear. She felt her orgasm coming close, and whimpered in his ear. Sherlock grinned wickedly as he pulled back to watch her face as she came even closer. "Come on my fingers." He slid two fingers inside her, and used his thumb to flick her clit as he pushed his fingers in and out in a face pace. Tabitha cried out, hugging his shoulders tightly, burying her face in his neck. She clamped over his moving fingers, and she rode them until the tremors had slowed down. She let out a groan, and pulled her face back to look at his.

"I've missed this."

"You have no idea," he growled back, pulling back and setting her feet on the floor. Tabitha's legs were shaky, and she leaned on the door to keep from sliding down as Sherlock stripped. She removed her bra with shaking fingers, and then made to push down her pants. "Leave them on." She nodded and let out a cry of surprise as he picked her up again, back to door, legs around his waist. He shoved himself inside her, knowing it may hurt a bit from his size and the lack of foreplay, but he didn't care. He needed her.

"Sherlock!" she exclaimed, tightening her hold again around his shoulders. They kissed each other passionately, biting and licking, as he thrust hard inside her. He moaned into her mouth as his hands held onto her ass, so tight there may be slight bruising. They both gasped together as he pumped, coming close to the end. "I'm almost there."

"I know. Wait... hold on," he panted, thrusting rapidly. Their bodies slid together, and she suddenly bit his shoulder as she came around his manhood. He groaned loudly as the way she clamped him sent him over the edge. They both shuddered, holding tightly to one another, as he spilled inside of her. Their minds came back down after a moment, and they brushed their noses against one another as they gasped for air.

"Wow," she panted.

"That's what you said the first time."

"Wow," she repeated, brushing her lips against his.

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**Please review! I haven't had a review in ages, and I'm feeling actually a bit put off from finishing this story. Lame, I know, just send in a quick 'love it!' or something? I feel like I've been forcing the last 4,000 words or so I've been writing :(**


	20. Sonograms & Angel Hunters

_**THANK YOU FOR ALL THE REVIEWS! It helped me push forward, and now I'm wrapping up this story! I do have things I NEED your opinions on - please read the bottom note for more!**_

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**CHAPTER 20 - Sonograms & Angel Hunters**

The next day, Tabitha got two packages. It was early afternoon, and she had just gotten back from a morning of window shopping and making a list of things that needed to be done before the baby came. She stashed the few things she had bought in their bedroom, and poked John in the shoulder as she passed him to grab the packages off the coffee table. He mumbled a hello and continued to type on his laptop. She saw that he was instant messaging Mary at her office.

She flopped down on the couch and studied the package in her hand.

"Where is Sherlock?"

"Scotland Yard."

"Do you know who sent this?"

"The post master brought it."

"Okay, then," Tabitha answered. The first was the size of two shoeboxes stacked on top of each other, wrapped in simple brown paper. She unwrapped it, and opened the brown cardboard box. Inside, there was a huge load of expensive baby clothes, yellow, green, and grey. Smiling, she picked up the small card inside.

_You'll need the best for Baby Holmes. Let's have dinner again soon. Irene x_

"Who is it from?"

"A friend." Tabitha glanced over at John, who raised an eyebrow at her. She winked at him and reached for the smaller package. It was the size of a necklace box – jewelry? She unwrapped the white paper, opened the white velvet box, and looked inside. It was a necklace, a heart-shaped locket, silver. She picked up the little card that was on top of it.

_You should wear this – it'll help you remember the pain I've caused when your gone – Moran x_

She threw the package and card on the floor with a yelp.

"What?" John asked, standing up and coming over to the couch quickly. He bent down and picked up the package and the card. Tabitha gripped the couch beneath her. She swallowed and looked wide-eyed at John. He looked just as worried, but quickly cover it up with a forced smile. "Hey, don't worry. Sherlock or I will always be with you, from now on…"

"I know," Tabitha answered in a whisper. John took out his phone to send Sherlock a text, but the man walked in just then. He took one look at them and frowned.

"What happened?" He took of his gloves, coat, and scarf, then walked over to Tabitha. John gestured to the jewelry box and card on the table, and sat down next to Tabitha. He put an arm around her shoulders, and felt the woman trembling. Tabitha wrapped her arms around her stomach, clenching her teeth. Tears stung her eyes. "I see…" Sherlock murmured, squinting down at the objects. He reached for his gloves, put them on, and picked them up.

"Sherlock… I'm scared," Tabitha said, swallowing. Sherlock looked over at her, and kept his face blank. His eyes, however, said that he was a bit frightened himself.

"Don't worry – I'll be by your side from now on. You'll go with me when I have a case instead of John." Sherlock took out his phone and started to text. John squeezed Tabitha's shoulder once more and stood up.

"I'll make us some tea and find something to eat, yeah?" John said.

"Tea, sounds good," Tabitha murmured, keeping her eyes down on the floor. Moran was really after her – it wasn't until now that she knew it was real. Until now, it had been part of the television show, no matter how long she had been in this world. Sherlock placed the note and box gingerly on the corner of the table, careful not to leave any of his fingerprints, and then stepped next to Tabitha's place on the couch. He looked down.

"I didn't realize Ms. Adler and you were such good friends," he murmured. Tabitha looked up, blinking from being distracted. Sherlock looked a bit cautious about that information.

"Yes. She seems to have a soft side for me, and the baby," Tabitha replied quietly. She took a deep breath through her nose and let it out slowly, then cleared her throat. "Well. Christmas. We still having that party?"

"We don't have to if you aren't comfortable," John answered, bringing a tray with a few mugs of tea and a plate of fruit on it.

"No! We should. It'll be good. There will be lots of people here – no need to be worried, right?" Tabitha chuckled half-heartedly.

"Brilliant," Sherlock mumbled, wrinkling his nose and moving to pick up the violin. He sat in his chair and watched Tabitha and John sip tea and nibble on the fruit. "Lestrade will be over in a few moments to get the gift."

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Sherlock wasn't lying about staying close to her – he never left her side, even when he was on a case. Tabitha was with him at the morgue, the crime scene, at Scotland Yard, and any other places he had to go. Sherlock tried to seem nonchalant about sending John, Mary, Lestrade, or even the Doctor to catch the really dangerous criminals, but everyone that knew him knew he was doing it to protect his fiancée and his child. It was odd to everyone, and their faces would show surprise each time he ordered them to go.

Mrs. Hudson was there when Sherlock absolutely had to go, and Tabitha wasn't surprised that the older woman knew how to handle a gun. She could outsmart anyone that came around, as well. Tabitha felt safe. Sherlock and Tabitha still had not talked about what to do when the baby came – should they get a new flat, should John move out, what should be the name, where the baby would sleep. Sherlock ignored those questions, while Tabitha thought about them quietly in her mind. It still was a long while, no need to add to their stresses.

One day, after a great appointment with Dr. Williams, Tabitha burst in the door of their flat, followed by an excited Mary and John. Sherlock had stayed behind to work on an experiment, reluctant to let Tabitha go without him. He didn't look up as the three grinned and talked excited about the sonogram pictures in Tabitha's hands.

"Sherlock, don't you want to see the baby?" John asked with a chuckle as he helped the women with their coats. John put them on hooks by the door and walked over to his best friend. Sherlock grunted when John put a hand on his shoulder. Mary and Tabitha rolled their eyes one another and giggled as they bent their heads close to look at the pictures. "Sherlock." John shook him a bit and Sherlock blinked up at him.

"Oh! I… see the baby?"

"Yes. Sonogram. I'm sure you know what that is!"

"Well, yes but… I know there's a baby – why do I have to see a picture of a blob in black and white?" He went back to his experiment, but everyone saw his hands trembling a bit. The three adults looked at each other knowingly. John and Mary followed one another to the door.

"I think we'll go get some… ice cream," John stated, getting the coats. Tabitha smiled gratefully and watched them leave.

"Why would they get ice cream in this weather? It's below freezing," Sherlock murmured to himself, his brows furrowed as he tried to concentrate on his microscope. Tabitha picked up the two main sonogram pictures and walked over to Sherlock. She placed her empty hand on his shoulder as she took a seat in the chair next to his. She leaned the table with her elbow and placed the pictures in front of him. He visibly swallowed and glared into the microscope.

"It's just us here, no one will see you show some… sentiment," Tabitha said softly. She squeezed his shoulder then brought her arm down next to her other one on the table. She reached out and scooted the pictures a bit closer to him. "Go ahead. You don't even have to say anything. Just look for a few seconds, and then I'll put them away."

Sherlock pulled back slowly and looked at Tabitha's face. She was smiling softly, understanding why he was ignoring the pictures. They were proof that there was truly a small human being inside of her, with half his DNA. She raised her eyebrows, still with a small smile, and tapped her finger against the pictures. He slowly looked down, and felt his stomach tighten.

The picture wasn't a blob – he should have known that at 12 weeks there would be definitive outlines. There was a head, arms, and fingers. He didn't know how long he stared. He blinked at the tears and looked at Tabitha. She had tears in her eyes as well, and reached out to touch his hand. He responded by fully enveloping her hand in his, and pulling her forward for a kiss. He tasted her softly, slowly, both their eyes closed. They pulled away slowly, and she was looking questioningly at his face.

"You have to say something. Please," she added.

"I wish I could have heard the heartbeat."

Tabitha stared at him before bursting out laughing, wiping happy tears from her eyes. He smiled back, but looked confused. She put her hands on his cheeks and pulled him in for a quick kiss on the lips.

"I wasn't expecting that from you. You're always a surprise."

"Hm," Sherlock replied with a small smile. He took one of the photos, looked at it for a moment, and folded it up carefully. He stood up, walked over to his wallet on his desk, and stuck it in one of the pockets. "We need to pay a visit to the Doctor."

"Sounds good to me," Tabitha smiled. The moment had passed, and now they had to get back to figuring out when and where these Angels were going to come after her. They put on their coats and scarves, then left. "The Christmas party is next week. We should invite him."

"Aren't we going to have enough people in my flat?"

"You do realize that two and a half other people live in that flat, now, right?" Sherlock grunted as he hailed a cab.

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The Doctor was happily surprised when Sherlock texted him. He had been visiting Clara, and they had spent a good amount of that time running from a race of humanoid machines. It was like Transformers, but with all bad autobots instead of just some. He made sure the TARDIS was in the same place as before, all those weeks ago, and quickly put up his Christmas decorations. Lights were strung around the console room, and the light in the middle was decorated with green tinsel wrapped around it. The TARDIS hummed, brightening a bit at how pretty she looked.

"Ah, the Holmeses!" he exclaimed happily as the couple came inside the blue box. Sherlock frowned at the decorations, and Tabitha giggled and hugged the Doctor. He pushed her away, still holding her waist while looking her up and down. "You're starting to show!"

"Of course she is," Sherlock mumbled, standing still in his spot right in front of the closed door. Tabitha turned around to send a quick glare at him, then put a smile back on her face. When she wasn't looking, Sherlock's lips turned up into a smirk, eyeing the woman's stomach. It was a bit firmer, and a little bump was noticeable if you knew what you were looking for. His stomach flipped with excitement, but no one would have been able to tell if they had been looking at him.

"Happy Christmas! Did you hear that Moran contacted me?"

"Yes, the Detective Inspector mentioned it to me. We've been a team, him and I, you know. He knows I'm an alien. Mycroft, as well. We're like a team – Angel Hunters. Kind of like the Winchester brothers – have you seen that show?"

"Supernatural? Yes! I loved watching it back home – I haven't even checked to see if it's in this universe…" Tabitha hummed, frowning in thought.

"It's here." The Doctor and Tabitha turned to look at Sherlock. He shrugged and gave him a bored look. "What?"

"You watch Supernatural."

"No, I don't _watch_ it, it's just on sometimes when the telly is on."

"Right," Tabitha said, holding back a snort of laughter. She turned back to the Doctor as Sherlock started to walk slowly around the console room. "So, did Team Angel Hunters come up with anything?"

"They are slowly starting to target people that are connected with the Holmes brothers," the Doctor said, sighing. He looked concerned, staring into a screen attached to the console. Sherlock and Tabitha moved to stand on either side of him, and she placed a hand lightly on her stomach. "They are getting closer."

Sherlock's arm went around her waist protectively, pulling her into his side. The Doctor looked at them, determination and reassurance in his eyes.

"I promise nothing will happen to you. To anyone else. I need to find the Mother Angel, see how Moran is using her as a means to control the Weeping Angels," the Doctor and the couple stared at each other for a long moment, letting the meaning of his words sink it. Instead of waiting for them to come to Tabitha, they were going to have to go to them.

Tabitha looked up at Sherlock.

"It'll be better to tackle this head on instead of waiting. It's been three months – I'm tired of waiting."

"I agree," he murmured, glancing down at her. The Doctor nodded, and pushed the two of them towards the door. Sherlock frowned and Tabitha looked confused as they were all but thrown out of the TARDIS.

"I'm sorry to have to do this, but I need to go to Lestrade and Mycroft to come up with a plan before anyone else gets hurt." Tabitha and Sherlock both noticed that his face had changed. Instead of curiosity and playfulness, there was pain and sadness.

"You've dealt with these Angels before."

"A few times," he replied mysteriously. He sent them a reassuring smile, although it wasn't a very big one. He closed the door, and they stepped back, standing close to one another, as the wind blew around them. The TARDIS groaned and faded, until all that was left was shaking branches and their breath in the air.

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**PLEASE REVIEW**

**Also, as I said at the start, I am wrapping up this story. I need your opinion on HOW to end it. I can end it and start a 'new' story, a sequel. I can also just keep going with this story, not taking the time to make a 'new story'.**

**What do you think? You choose. Once I get 5-10 reviews/votes, I'll post the next chapter!**


	21. Cute Baby Giraffe

_**Thanks for all the reviews! Pretty much all of you said to make a separate 'new' story, which I will. I'm working on wrapping it up now. This will go on through the pregnancy, and then the sequel will take place as the birth happens. This chapter has them discussing and getting ready to face Moran in person. I made it up as I went, so I hope I kind of got descriptions and legal words and stuff kinda close.**_

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**CHAPTER 21 - Cute Baby Giraffe**

Mycroft smiled stiffly as he murmured a goodbye to his latest appointment, and shut the door behind them with a hefty sigh. He pressed his lips together, a bit irritated at the stupidity he had to face every day, and turned back to his desk. He walked around, touching papers and such on his desk, and sat down in his chair. He leaned forward.

The papers on his desk fluttered, and a noise vibrated throughout the room. Mycroft looked around curiously, although he knew what it was. The Doctor was coming to see him – something must have happened. He checked his phone as the TARDIS materialized in the corner of his office far from him. No texts from Sherlock, John, Tabitha, or any other person he had watching them. He sat it softly on the desk as the box's door opened.

"Hello, Doctor, you have news?" He started to look over paperwork nonchalantly. The Doctor took a seat in the chair across from him, and leaned forward so his elbows were on the desk.

"Sherlock and Tabitha have decided to face Moran and the Weeping Angels."

Mycroft froze, the papers in his hand suddenly blurry. He took a slow, deep breath, placed the papers on the desk, and put his full attention on the man in front of him. The Doctor, in his usual clothing, raised his eyebrows at the hard stare.

"They are going to do what?" Mycroft felt a slight panic in his chest, but pushed it far down into his subconscious. Even if he was worried, there was no stopping Sherlock, or even Tabitha, when they put their minds together to do something.

"You know, as well as I do, they are going to do it whether they have help or not," the Doctor said, pointing out the same thoughts.

"Obviously," Mycroft murmured. He brought his hands up in a similar fashion to Sherlock's thinking pose, and stared at nothing in particular as he thought. "I suppose we should draw up some kind of strategy to get what we want."

"Greg should be here soon," the Doctor said with a deadly and serious expression on his face. Mycroft nodded at his words. Time for the game to start.

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Sherlock couldn't believe that Tabitha had convinced him to add a splash of Christmas decorations to the flat. Come to think of it, all the women who would be in attendance of the Christmas party had come bursting into the door with three big boxes of lights, tensile, mistletoe, and decorations to decorate the big tree that John had somehow snuck in.

He sat in his seat, plucking the string of his violin, as his friends chatted to each other. Friends. It was odd to think he had friends. He watched as Molly and her date, Victor, chatted with John and Mary. Victor was a nice guy – a teacher. Mrs. Hudson, the Doctor, and Tabitha were talking about future baby plans. He had ignored them on purpose – it was too soon to think about those kind of things. Lestrade and Mycroft were discussing their plan of action in the far corner, away from the group.

The voices stopped when they heard a knock on the door. They all looked at one another, confusion written on their faces. Lestrade put a hand to his gun, and the men stepped in front of the women, making sure they were protected. The door opened, and everyone gaped in surprise. Except Tabitha, of course.

Irene Adler raised in eyebrow, and daintily gave a little shrug and a smirk.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," she commented as she locked eyes with each person in the room. The people who didn't know exactly who she was, namely Victor and Mary, watched everyone else with confusion. Irene smiled, taking off the black shawl around her tight red dress. It reached her thighs, had a high neck, and she wore matching red stilettos. Tabitha rolled her eyes and pushed her way through the crowd of people.

"I'm glad you could make it," she smiled at the woman in the doorway, taking her coat and hanging it on a bare hook next to the door. Irene held a small boxed present in her hand. She handed it to Tabitha.

"Wouldn't miss this for the world," Irene stated with a chuckle. "This is for you and your fiancé." She glanced over at Sherlock, who ignored her with a bored look on his face.

"You're supposed to be dead!" John exclaimed, saying what everyone that knew the story was thinking. All eyes turned to Sherlock, who had that annoying smirk on his face. "You knew. You knew she was alive?"

"He saved her," the Doctor replied with a grin. Everyone turned their eyes to the Doctor.

"Okay! We get it, she's alive, blah blah blah, I invited her, she's my friend," Tabitha exclaimed to the surprised people in the room. "Shut up and drink your alcohol. And non-alcoholic beverages for those people," Tabitha added, looping her arm through Irene's and sending her a wink. Irene grinned, enjoying they disturbance she was causing.

Lestrade, Mycroft, and John all glared at Irene, obviously not trusting her. Mrs. Hudson cleared her throat and started going around the room, offering to refill glasses. Molly helped her, and Victor followed them. Mary stayed next to John, holding onto his arm, confusion on her face. She knew what John had told her, and she didn't seem to trust the woman, either.

The Doctor and Tabitha were the only people who seemed at ease with Irene. The others went about themselves, eating, drinking, chatting, and the Doctor came over to join Tabitha and Irene. She looked him up and down.

"Aren't you a cute baby giraffe?" she teased good-naturedly. The Doctor stuttered and blushed with a grin. She winked at him and turned back to Tabitha. "Any morning sickness?" The two women sat down on the empty couch, and the Doctor went off to talk to another guest.

"Nope, so far so good. Doctor Williams says that I'm healthy as a horse. He was telling me how is wife Amy didn't feel a thing when she was pregnant with their daughter, Melody."

There was a crash as the Doctor tripped and knocked over plastic cups that were on the table next to the punch. Everyone looked over at him, and he cleared his throat and he picked up the mess. Molly, Mary and Victor helped him.

"Pay me no mind!" he said as people chuckled around him.

The rest of the night was better than Tabitha thought it would be after Irene showed up. Sherlock spent a few moments chatting civilly with the woman, holding Tabitha to his side possessively. At one point, Irene made a comment about how it would have never worked between them. Another moment, Sherlock had picked up his violin and played a Christmas tune with a rare smile on his face.

Molly and Victor left after she had given small presents to everyone, except Irene, of course. Mycroft, Lestrade, and the Doctor left after them, but told John, Sherlock, Tabitha, and even Mary to meet them at the TARDIS in the park early tomorrow morning. Mrs. Hudson fluttered around, picking up messes and taking dishes to the kitchen.

When it was just the six of them, Mary and Tabitha helped her clean up the rest of the mess.

"You know, you aren't our housekeeper," Tabitha chuckled as she wiped down the table. Mrs. Hudson waved the comment away with a scoff.

"It's Christmas – I'm doing it because I want to this time!"

Irene picked up her small present and walked into the kitchen with her shawl in hand.

"I have to take my leave, but I want to see you open your gift. Sherlock, this is for you, as well!" she called out, glancing back at Sherlock typing on his laptop at his desk. He ignored them. John rolled his eyes as he took down the lights that were strewn around the room.

"It doesn't really matter if he opens it with me," Tabitha chuckled. Molly, Mary, and Mrs. Hudson continued to work on the dishes and kitchen cleaning, keeping an eye on Irene. Everyone had kept their distance from her, but they hadn't done anything to make her leave.

"I want to see his face when you pull it out," she grinned. Tabitha raised in eyebrow, and fully expected something sexual to appear under the box top. She opened it, and covered her smile with her hand.

"Sherlock."

"Is it really that important?"

Tabitha picked up the object and threw it at him. He turned just in time to catch it in his hand. It was a key. He frowned, and looked at the tag attached to it. John and the rest of them watched curiously.

_Two weeks of sand, sex, and style. _

"What does this mean?"

"You need somewhere amazing to take your new bride. I most likely won't be around to use it, so I'm offering my very private beach home."

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Sherlock was more relieved than he'd ever felt before when everyone left. John had joined Mary at her place. Sherlock had deduced that they were taking the next step in their relationship. John moving out was the logical step, but that meant that he'd be left with only Tabitha in their flat. It wasn't so much as that thought that made his chest tighten in rare panic, I was the fact that things were changing at an alarming rate.

He glanced at the gifts that had been exchanged from his spot laying on the couch. John had gotten an abundance of jumpers, and a new wallet. Mary had given John a key to her home, although no one saw it. Sherlock had deduced it as soon as they came out of the man's bedroom. Tabitha had gotten gifts related to the baby from everyone – clothing, designer diaper bag of a light yellow color, and other little necessities. They were sitting on a pile next to the decorated tree – the only remnant of Christmas in the flat, thankfully.

"It wasn't so bad, was it now?"

His gaze turned to the mother of his child, smiling and stretching tiredly. She'd changed a few moments ago into flannel pajama pants and a black tank top, which seemed to be a bit smaller on her because of her baby bump and fuller breasts. Sherlock found himself staring at her breasts, bare under the shirt according to the hardened nipples standing out against it.

"Where are we going to put all this stuff?"

"John will be moving into Mary's place, soon," Sherlock stated, jerking to a sitting position and running his hands through his curls. Tabitha looked at him, surprised. "No, neither of them told me, it's just the logical step in their relationship at the moment." He pushed himself up and headed back to his room to change into something more comfortable than his usual suit. He stopped at the door, his hand on the door knob, and turned back to Tabitha. "That can be the baby's room."

Tabitha watched from her place next to the couch as he closed the door quietly behind him after his statement. She let out a breath she hadn't known she had been holding. Sherlock went from ignoring what he didn't want to deal with to dealing with it as simply as possible. She yawned and went around the room, finishing picking up what trash was left. It was back to its organized chaos before the holidays.

She passed by Sherlock's desk and saw two envelopes with her name on them. Tabitha frowned and picked them up, seeing they were from Nancy and T.J.'s parents. Why hadn't Sherlock, or even the Doctor, mentioned this to her? A bit of annoyance and anger boiled in her mind, but she pushed it off – it was an eventful evening, with their guests and Irene Adler coming to the party. Deciding to look at them before going to bed, she ripped the one from Nancy and pulled out a short letter.

_Tabitha,_

_I'm glad to hear you are doing well – we miss you at the store! Your friend, who calls himself the Doctor, says that you are doing well, and even found a nice man! Good for you. Please do keep in touch, even visit sooner or later!_

_Love, Nancy_

Tabitha felt tears prickle her eyes as she remembered the older woman. She was like a mother to her, in all honesty. Swallowing her sad tears, she tore open the next letter.

_T.J. would be proud of what you've done with yourself. Keep following your dreams, and we promise to keep T.J. updated on your exploits. Good luck and good life!_

Short and sweet, just how she expected a reply letter from her late in-laws. Tabitha couldn't think of a reason why the Doctor or Sherlock would keep these letters from her, so she concluded they had just forgotten all about them. She threw them into the trash, and glanced out the window as she passed it – it was snowing. She went to the bedroom and crawled into bed next to Sherlock. He was asleep, but he still curled himself around her back and wrapped his arm around her waist. She snuggled back against him and fell asleep.

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The next morning, John, Mary, Tabitha, and Sherlock were in Mycroft's home office, along with the Doctor and Lestrade. All but Sherlock looked like they wanted to murder Mycroft for suggesting meeting at such an early hour after the party, but Mycroft ignored their grumbles.

"We have all decided to go forward with exposing ourselves?"

"Yes, but for one thing," Sherlock said, standing slightly in front of Tabitha. Mycroft raised his eyebrow at his brother. "Tabitha will not be participating."

"What?" she exclaimed, stepping around to look up at his face. The other five people in the room watched silently, curious as to how this alteration would go. Sherlock furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"I'm protecting you. There is no reason to put yourself in danger. Isn't that what you somewhat told me before?"

"How else are they going to come out of hiding? They want me."

"No, they want me, so that's what they are going to think they are getting."

"It's not going to happen, so you might as well shut up," Tabitha growled, hands on her hips. John coughed, hiding a giggle.

"Tabitha, don't be stupid –"

"Do not call me stupid, you asshole!" she said, cutting him off with a poke in his chest with her finger.

"Sherlock, don't mess with a pregnant, hormonal woman. She is going to be a part of this, whether you like it or not," Mary commented with a glare, standing up for her friend. Sherlock looked around at the other people, raising an eyebrow to see who would stand up for his thoughts on the matter. They shrugged at him, or in Mycroft's case, grinned at him.

"Isn't this what a partner is supposed to do? Be protective?" Sherlock felt irritation coming over him. "I will not let my fiancée be in danger!" He stomped angrily over to the window and looked down into the street.

"She won't be in danger. Mary and I will be with her," John reassured his friend, coming up beside him.

"Yes, and the rest of us will be close, watching," Lestrade replied, as well. "The plan is simple."

"Throwing her to the wolves is not simple."

"Boys, I am _right here_!" Tabitha stomped her foot angrily.

"There is no other way, dear brother," Mycroft said with a frown. "Contrary to what you might think, I am reluctant to put my future sister-in-law in danger, along with her child, as well. This needs to stop, though, now, before Moran can get the upper hand."

"See? I knew you weren't as stiff and cold as everyone thinks you are," Tabitha quipped with a smile, walking up to Mycroft and smiling at him, thankful he was on her side, even though reluctantly. "Doctor, you haven't said anything."

"I was just thinking. The Angels should not see me with any of you – they may catch on that we have a plan."

"Have you found out anything about what Moran is holding to get what he wants from them?" Sherlock turned from the window. Everyone faced the Doctor, who was leaning against the desk in the middle of the circle. He slowly looked at everyone, except Mycroft because he was behind him.

"They have their mother, in way. No, not the literal way, more like their leader. You may know her as the Statue of Liberty across the pond. Haven't you seen the news lately?" He glanced back at Mycroft, who picked up some papers. He walked around, giving each person a copy of some report. Tabitha looked down, and quickly worked through it.

"So that is why there are so many heavy guards surrounding it. They have been saying it was the government protecting it," Mary commented, frowning at the paper in her hand

"Moran has his hands in a lot of things, I see," John murmured with a sign. "How are we going to get past the guns?"

"You, Mary, and Tabitha are going to visit. I've gotten you a pass to get through the guns, as you said. They will let you get through, no matter what, I am sure."

"How do you know?" Tabitha asked, moving to stand by Sherlock. She let their elbows touch, feeling comforted just by being close.

"Like you said, they want you. It'll be easier to get to you on their turf, whether you have protection or not." Sherlock wrapped an arm around her waist and brought her against his side. He moved his head just enough to brush his lips against her forehead and turned his hard stare at the Doctor. "You are the only one who can truly keep them safe."

"Don't worry, I always outsmart the Angels."

"Might as well just kill them," Sherlock stated.

"You can't kill an Angel, Sherlock."

"What about your magic screwdriver?"

"Sonic screwdriver!" the Doctor corrected with a sigh. "I can distract them and slow down their movements, but I can't kill them."

"That's unfortunate," Lestrade noted.

"Tabitha, Mary, and John shall fly to New York in two days. Sherlock and Lestrade will be taking a trip to Florida for a case. The Doctor will meet them in Florida and take them up to New York in time to be in place as the three make their way to Liberty Island." Mycroft laid out the plan simply.

"What do we do once we're on the island?" John asked. The women were thinking the same thing.

"Don't blink," the Doctor answered.

**PLEASE REVIEW - in the next chapter they will face Moran. :D I hope it's as awesome as it was in my head LOL.**


	22. This Is My Division

**Here is the start of the end - I hope you like it! I tried to make it exciting, but... lol. Remember to review! I don't know what the rooms in the statue of liberty looks like, so just go with what I've described, okay? This is an alternate world, eh?**

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**CHAPTER 22 - This Is My Division**

It was snowy in New York, but nothing Tabitha couldn't handle. They were bundled up tight. Mary and John were on one side of her as they sat on the ferry that took them over to the island of the huge statue. It looked beautiful, and Tabitha felt awe at how big it actually was. The three of them smiled at each other, taking a moment to appreciate the site instead of being on guard. When they looked at the dock waiting just head of them, they all sobered.

"Thank you so much for this – I know it's been crazy with all the precautions," Mary said sweetly, batting her eyelashes at the young man at the wheel of the boat. He blushed and grinned at the pretty woman.

"Don't worry, ma'am. The President himself asked that I take you over – how cool is that?"

"That's pretty awesome," Tabitha smiled politely. They docked, and six people in black uniforms came up. They helped the woman off the boat, but John had to climb over the railing himself. He muttered a curse, asking himself why there was a railing in the way of the walking space of the deck.

"Just to make sure no one sneaks in," the leader of the black-suited pack said gruffly. All six of them were big, burly, and frowned. The three tourists glanced at one another and smiled at the men uneasily as they were escorted toward the base of the statue. Tabitha looked around, and saw a flash at the top. She had to tilt her head back so much it hurt her neck to see the crown of the statue.

"What's up there?"

"Viewing," the man answered.

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Sherlock, Lestrade, and the Doctor watched from their hidden spot inside the statue. They had found the perfect corner with just enough of a blind spot to hide the TARDIS. Lestrade almost had a heart attack when he saw the inside of the blue box, but seemed to calm down just as quickly to enjoy the ride. Sherlock had leaned against the railing as they flew through space to get inside the famous statue.

"I can see them," the Doctor whispered, showing the small screen in his hand. They had hacked into the camera systems with the Doctor's sonic screwdriver so they could see the feeds. They saw Moran in the crown portion of the statue. "Now, we wait for just the right time." He looked at the two other man from over the console.

"How fast does this thing go?" Lestrade asked.

"As fast as an Angel," the Doctor replied, his voice serious.

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"I have to use the restroom. You know, pregnancy," Tabitha murmured politely at their tour guide. The burly man who looked nothing like a museum tour guide nodded toward a set of doors down the hall. "I'll be right back."

Mary and John nodded with smiles, but their hands were clasped tightly. This was it. As soon as Tabitha slipped inside the women's restroom, the guide turned immediately to them.

"I think we can move on."

"Are you sure?" Mary looked down the hall at the door Tabitha went into.

"She can follow us. We're just going down the hall, yeah?" John said, putting on the reassuring smile to his girlfriend.

"Of course," the man said, a hard smile on his face. The couple looked at each other and nodded slightly. They followed the man down the hall and around the corner.

Tabitha waited a full three and a half minutes until she left the restroom. The hallway was empty, just as the plan called for. She looked up at the security camera above the rest room.

"I want to talk to you, Sebastian, before you take me from here."

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Everyone watching the cameras stiffened. Sherlock's nose flared as his jaw clenched. This was not in the plan! Mycroft watched from his office with the link that Doctor had sent through his own screen. Lestrade pulled out his gun, and headed toward the door, Sherlock following with an angry look on his face.

"Stop!" the Doctor said, rushing over and sliding in front of the TARDIS door. The two men glared at him.

"She is putting herself into more danger than is necessary. We're going in," Sherlock commanded, pushing him out of the way. The Doctor frowned and used his hands to push him back again.

"This is good! Instead of facing the Angels, she's going to face Moran. From what we all know, he likes this type of thing, yes?"

"He's right, Sherlock," Lestrade answered with a soft voice. Sherlock's head whipped around to his friend's face. "That doesn't mean we aren't going to her. We will be right outside the room where Moran is – we'll hear everything that is said. If she needs help, _we will be right there_."

"Fine!" the Doctor exclaimed with a defeated sigh. He pulled out his sonic screwdriver while the other two men pulled out their guns. Lestrade and Sherlock looked at the screwdriver, and glanced at one another. "Hey, trust the sonic!" The Doctor pushed open the door and raced towards the elevator with the other two on his heels.

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Tabitha stood in the middle of the room where people looked down from the crown of the statue.

"Is it weird being inside one of the Angels?" she asked lightly, with her hands clasped behind her back, rocking back and forth on her feet. Moran stood tall on the other side of the room, leaning against one of the windows. He looked like a tan Moriarty, only a bit taller.

"Pregnancy suits you, my dear."

"Except for the morning sickness, it's pretty great." Tabitha knew that the cameras in all corners of the room were locked on her, with Sherlock and the other men watching her. She hoped John and Mary were safe, though, and a frown appeared on her face as she looked at the screens near Moran. Mary and John were tied to chairs with two stone angel statues in front of them. One was covering its eyes, while the other had claws up and teeth out, growling at them. Tabitha gulped – so those were the Weeping Angels.

"I'm sure the Doctor told you that everything will be fine if at least one of them keeps an eye on the girls," Moran said with a chuckle. He straightened his suit and pushed himself away from the window. He slowly walked toward her, and Tabitha clenched her jaw. He walked around her, not touching, just looking. She glanced back at the screen, and saw that both of the Angels now had their hands up and their teeth out.

"You do realize Sherlock and other people are waiting just outside the door."

"So are some of my girls."

"Why do you want me?"

"I don't want you. I need you."

"I'm not sure what that means."

"Are the stories true? That you're from a universe where all this –" He swept his arm out. "– is a television show?"

"Does it matter?" She moved her arms over her stomach. "I'm here now – this is real. I can't give you any information from that world – you didn't exist in the Sherlock television show."

"Well, obviously I had to, or I wouldn't be here."

"You were never mentioned."

"Jim never said anything about me?" Moran frowned, his arms over his chest, stopping in front of Tabitha.

"Not at all," Tabitha replied. She felt a smirk curve over her lips as Moran looked truly hurt. She wondered how close the two of them were if he was that upset about never being mentioned. She was about to ask that question when a shot rang out. Both of them whipped their head towards the closed and locked entrance to the big room.

Damnit, Sherlock! She knew he'd be out there, but she didn't think he'd do anything to draw attention! She didn't think any of the men watching out for her would. All she was supposed to do was draw the angels out, and then the Doctor would try to talk them into turning onto Moran. Instead, she had drawn out Moran himself, and now John and Mary were trying to keep their eyes open. She wondered if someone had shot at the Angels outside the door.

"Don't they realize you cannot kill a Weeping Angel?"

He grabbed Tabitha's arm and started to drag her off into a dark corner. She pulled and struggled, but that only made his grip tighter. They came to a dark door.

"Sherlock!" she cried, yelling as loud as she could. She heard entrance door being shoved and pounded on. Her breathing became labored as panic gripped her insides. She focused on breathing through her nose as she clawed at Moran's hand on her arm. He didn't even wince. He pulled open the door to see John and Mary in front of her, with their backs to them. This made the Weeping Angels in the room to be looking at her. She felt herself blink, and they seemed just a few inches closer to the two in the chairs.

"John, Mary, don't blink! One of us have to keep our eyes on them at all times!"

"We know, we know! We've been doing rather well, I think!" Mary cried. Their hands were clasped tightly.

"Moran, call your creepy statues off us!" John called over his shoulder, trying his best to keep his eyes in front of him.

"Thank you, girls. Remember, just a little while more until you can have old Liberty back."

"If we get your leader back, will you let us go?" Tabitha asked loudly, finally pulling away from Moran. She smirked and took a step back. He slammed the door behind them. "Moran!"

"Don't worry – there are three of us now, that means there is an even better chance at holding out," Mary stated, although her voice betrayed her fear.

"How do we communicate with them?"

"No idea!" John replied. It was going to be a long few minutes until the others could get to them.

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Sherlock had only felt this kind of panic and desperation one other time – when those snipers were aiming at his friends' heads. Lestrade, the Doctor, and he all had their guns pulled. The detectives were doing their best not to blank as the angel statues in front of them were splayed out, ready to attack. They pointed their guns at the statues, although the Doctor continued to shout that guns won't do any harm to them.

The Doctor pleaded with his sonic screwdriver to unlock the door, holding it close to the lock as it buzzed.

"Doctor! Get the damn door open, now!" Sherlock shouted, his jaw clenched.

"There!" the Doctor cried, pushing the door open with both hands. The Doctor ran ahead, shouting the names of their friends, while Lestrade and Sherlock slowly walked back into the room, eyes on the statues. The statues stayed still, and they were finally on the other side of the door frame. Sherlock quickly calculated their next move.

"Don't blink!" Sherlock shouted, turning his eyes away to quickly shut the door. As soon as the door latched closed, they heard one of the statues hit it with a loud slam. Sherlock quickly locked the door, then ignored a panting Lestrade as he raced over to where the Doctor stood in front Moran.

"Where. Are. They." Sherlock's vision zeroed in on the man in front of him, hands to his side. One hand clenched the gun, the other clenched into a fist. Moran looked just like Jim Moriarty, except taller, tanner, and had light hair. He even dressed the same. Sherlock quickly deduced what he could about the man, and then smirked. Moran raised his eyebrows with a smile.

"I'm surprised you haven't found me yet, Sherlock," Moran responded, hands in his pants pockets. "Jim said you were just like the rest of them, though."

The Doctor and Lestrade had their respect weapons raised.

"Interesting. Jim never said a thing about you."

"I think you're mistaken," Moran said, his eyes turning into slits. There was a scream, Lestrade, Sherlock, and the Doctor turned to the door behind Moran. Sherlock took that second to send a quick shot into Moran's knee. The man yelped and fell to the ground, clutching his leg, blood flowing quickly.

"I think you were just a tool to Moriarty, just like everyone else," Sherlock growled, looking down at the seething man below him. The Doctor and Lestrade quickly made work on the door.

"You don't know that!" Moran screamed, launching himself at Sherlock. Sherlock lightly stepped back, and Moran slid back to the floor. His face was turning pale as he looked down at the blood going down his pants leg.

"You really are letting him down," Sherlock quipped.

"Sherlock!" Lestrade called to him just as the Doctor got the door unlocked. They heard quiet sobbing behind the door. Sherlock caught the handcuffs that Lestrade threw to him, and it around Moran's hand, and the other around the railing under the window. Moran shouted obscenities and threats, pulling at the handcuffs madly. Everyone ignored him as the door was thrown open.

Sherlock paid no mind to the statues or anyone else in the room. He rushed over to Tabitha, you was huddled in the corner at the right of the door. She was gulping in air, arms around her stomach, and tears staining her cheeks. Along with the other two captives, her eyes was glued to the statues. She didn't look away when Sherlock stood in front of her.

"Sherlock, don't!" she cried, trying to push him out of the way so she could keep watching. "I have to watch them!"

"Tabitha! Darling, it's okay, we're here, there are at least two people watching them at all times, I promise," Sherlock said softly, taking her cheeks in his gloved hands. She blinked rapidly, then tipped her head to look up at him. A loud sob escaped her throat as she closed her eyes tightly, wrapped her arms around his waist, and buried her face into his chest. He held her tightly to him, his lips touching her forehead. Sherlock felt his body relax, knowing that just holding her made everything better.

While Sherlock was consoling Tabitha, Lestrade was untying Mary and John. Mary's cheeks were stained with tears, while John was sending her soft words of encouragement. The Doctor insisted to that the two keep their eyes on the Angels. As Lestrade finished untying them, the Doctor slowly made his way over to the two statues in front of them.

"I need one of you to stay with me, so each statues has a pair of eyes on it. The rest of you, leave." The Doctor gave the order clearly, but no one made the move to leave. All eyes had turned to the statues.

"Doctor, we need to figure out how to get all of us out of here –" Lestrade started.

"Detective Inspector, this is my division. I am in charge here," the Doctor shouted, anger clearly bubbling under the surface. Everyone jumped a bit at the outburst, although all Sherlock did was look a bit surprised.

"Right. I'll stay, then," Lestrade answered. He blinked heavily a few times, and set his eyes on the statues just as the Doctor was. He moved to stand in front of the other statue that the Doctor wasn't watching. "Sherlock, John, get everyone out of here. Call the police to get Moran, but don't let them in this room."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm going to kill you! Don't you underestimate me, Sherlock Holmes, you bastard!"

Everyone ignored Moran's angry yelling from across the room, which made him even more upset. He cried out an animalistic yell and struggled against his bonds again. His pants were covered in blood, his hair was a bit wild and disheveled, and his face had turned from calm to mad in seconds.

"You need to get your women out of here," Lestrade insisted. "I'm the only one who can stay."

"Please, I want to leave," Mary whispered, head against John's chest as he held her. Her eyes were still on the Angels, and John had to tug her gently to get her to look away. The men slowly turned the woman around, and they walked out, holding onto their respective partners.

**Please review!**

**Also, I need some help... I need plot ideas for the sequel. As of right now all I have is that Sherlock is going to have an adventure in being a new father. I need some plot ideas that will make it more than just that. A special enemy, secrets that come out, a reason for Tabitha to go to her universe (I'm thinking it may do with her late husband)...**

**HELP HELP HELP HELP HELP HELP**


	23. Dark Green May Be Good

**_There is only a little bit left until the sequel! I've already started on it. It's kind of bland right now, but I'm trying to spice it up a little so it's more interesting._**** SEX AT THE END Mature chapter.**

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**CHAPTER 23 - Dark Green May Be Good**

As John, Sherlock, and their girlfriends closed the door behind them. The Doctor slowly back up to make sure the door was lock. He lowered his arm holding the sonic to his side, and resumed a relaxed stance, although his eyes were hard.

"Relax, Detective Inspector. We can make a deal here," the Doctor reassured him, moving back to his spot in front of one of the angels. Lestrade swallowed and slowly put his gun back into its holster.

"How do we do that?"

"Give them Liberty."

"What if they use it against us?" Lestrade was confused, but didn't say another words after the Doctor shushed him.

"I'm going to try and lower your voice frequency so we can have a chat, yeah?" He held up his hands in a defensive position, one with the sonic in it. "I'm going to blink, for less than a second. If you agree to talk, put your arms down." He gestured with a hand towards the arms reaching out for him. "If you don't, take me, but leave this man."

After a moment of staring at one another, and Lestrade about to choke from fear, the Doctor blinked. It lasted a nanosecond, but it was enough for the Angel to move. Lestrade held his breath, and when the Doctor went back to staring, both of the angels' arms were down. Lestrade let out the breath.

"Good. I'm not sure how we will have a chat without looking at one another, but at least I can make it so we can hear you!" He lifted the sonic to one of the statue's throat and pressed the button. After a few moments of buzzing, he stopped and did the same thing to the next one. "There! Now, how do we do this?"

He watched the angels thoughtfully.

"Doctor?" Lestrade asked, not sure what to do. His hand was still poised over his gun in its holster, his eyes still on the statue in front of him.

"Alright. Let's see if this works. Now, show you that I'm a trusting Time Lord, I'll close my eyes. Mr. Lestrade, over here, will do the same –"

"What?" Lestrade exclaimed. The Doctor ignored him.

"Remember, take me, not him. If you do that, though, you may never get this lovely woman back. After they finish gathering evidence. It should take only a few days, we'll make sure." He gestured around the room to make sure they knew he was talking about the statue they were standing in. There was a moment of silence. "Detective Inspector, if you please?"

"You said I shouldn't blink!"

"Just do it!"

Lestrade swallowed his fear, encouraging himself to do as was told – this was the Doctor's division, after all. He slowly lowered his eyelids, his whole body stiffening, not sure what to expect if they attacked. Nothing happened. So far, so good, so he left his arms slowly to show compliance. The Doctor must have done the same thing, because after a moment he heard a soft, child-like voice fill the room.

"Why should we trust you, Time Lord? You have gone out of your way to destroy us."

"I was hoping that by closing our eyes, allowing you to move about freely and all that, may lead to a bit of trust."

There was a long moment of silence. It felt too long. Lestrade and the Doctor waited for the Angels to grab their time energy.

"That has helped, Doctor, but this does not mean we are in alliance." The men let out their breaths.

"At the moment, we can be. Sebastian Moran is not going to be able to use your kind anymore."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because that is completely my division," Lestrade replied, feeling a bit more confident in this conversation. "I'm sure you've heard about my partnership with Sherlock Holmes. We always get our man, especially with him on the case."

"Sebastian Moran has mentioned him. He does not like that man very much."

"It seems so," the Doctor answered. "Do we have a deal? We go our separate ways?"

Another long silence.

"It would seem the best at the moment," another voice answered, this time it was just a bit deeper than the other one. The two men felt more relaxed then they had in a long time. "This does not mean that next time we meet will be the same, Doctor."

"I would hope not," the Doctor answered in a low voice. It was easy to hear the anger that was in his tone. The Angels let out soft child-like lives. The Doctor and Lestrade felt the wind rush by them. The Doctor's eyes popped open, looking around the now empty room. He turned to Lestrade, who had his hands in the air and eye tightly shut. "You can open them now, they're gone."

"Oh, thank god," Lestrade gasped, opening his eyes wide and putting his hands on his knees. He sucked in breaths. "I am never going near a statue again."

"Good idea," the Doctor answered with a grin. He pushed the door that was cracked from the Angel's departure to see policeman hovering around the room. Lestrade breathed in and out heavily one last time and followed the man into the room. He was surrounded by other officers in a minute. The Doctor left him to deal with them as he went in search of the captives. He walked by an officer leading Moran towards the door. Moran growled at him, but the Doctor just raised an eyebrow. Straightening his bowtie, he finally found Sherlock, John, Tabitha, and Mary in the far corner, finishing up a conversation with the American police.

John and Mary were still locked in a comforting embrace, while Sherlock and Tabitha leaned against the wall. Tabitha's arms were across her chest, and Sherlock had his arm around her shoulder. The women's faces had more color to them, but the stress and fear of what had happened were still evident by the worrying looks in their eyes.

"How did you get away?" Mary asked quietly while John stroked her hair.

"We made a deal. They get the statue back as soon as the investigation in finished, and we get to keep our time energy for another day," the Doctor answered with a smile.

"How did you speak to them?"

"I used this to lower the frequency of their voices," he replied, tossing the sonic up in the air and catching it with flair.

"Clever," Sherlock murmured, pulling Tabitha in closer.

"Happy New Year, yeah?" John suddenly said. Everyone groaned at his try of humor, including the Doctor.

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Everything went back to normal after that. John and Mary had decided to move into her place, so within a few days, John's room was cleared and his stuff was gone. Mary promised Sherlock that John would always be on call, unless he was otherwise engaged. Mrs. Hudson took it upon herself to deep clean John's old room to make way for baby things. Lestrade had gotten high praise for the capture of Moran, although most of the information had been turned into classified information only the highest of the highs could see.

Mycroft had said the President of the United States wanted to meet with them, but Sherlock had waved him off with a grunt. Tabitha scolded him before turning back to Mycroft saying she would love the opportunity, and that Sherlock had to stay home because he'd be too much of an asshole.

They would know the sex of the baby next week when she went in with her appointment with Dr. Williams for her 18 week check-up. Sherlock had made a point of staying away from anything baby-related, including conversations and questions.

When no one was around, though, he'd take the opportunity to sit or stand next to Tabitha and put his hand on her little bump. His face would go soft, and he'd stare down at where his hand met her skin, sometimes for an hour or so, just looking. It was intimate in his own way, and Tabitha loved that.

In the empty, white room, the dark carpet is freshly vacuumed and the walls freshly coated with primer paint. The three woman sit in chairs in the middle of the room, as Tabitha was learning it was a pain to get up from the floor because of soreness. She held up a strip of light yellow in one hand, while the other one was holding a baby carrot. There was a plate of vegetables on the small folding table next to her. She crunched on the carrot as the other two woman studied the color.

"Yellow? Are you sure? I think gray can be a lovely, neutral color," Mary pointed out, holding up her own color strip. Tabitha wrinkled her nose, and Molly chuckled. "No? Fine, yellow. What kind of yellow?"

"Yellow is too bright." They turned to see Sherlock standing at the door, wearing his suit pants and a dark green button-up dress shirt.

"That's a new color," Tabitha stated, her eyes staring his the straining buttons. She felt her nipples harden, and a vision of that shirt brushing up against her bare chest had her squeezing her legs together. Sherlock seemed to notice, because a knowing grin turned up the corners of his mouth. "Uh, I have go to the bathroom. I think a dark green may be good. Great. Lovely."

She sent Sherlock a glare as he smirked at her, and rushed to the bathroom connected to their bedroom.

"That was weird, even for her," Molly said, concern in her eyes.

"No. She was getting aroused. You may want to put some music on or leave the flat."

The woman's jaws dropped as Sherlock turned to walk away, then their eyes turned to one another.

"Which one do you want to do?" Mary asked.

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John and Victor were discussing a new case that involved two dead bodies, a grave robber, and a trampoline when Sherlock peaked his head around the kitchen door frame.

"Don't interrupt, my fiancée's pregnancy hormones may keep us busy for a while."

John and Victor's mouths gaped as they watched Sherlock make his way to the bedroom. They turned to each other just as Molly and Mary stepped into the living room.

"We should go!" John said, rushing to push the papers into messy stacks. The other three people nodded in agreement, grabbed their coats, and made their way to the door. Just as they opened it, they heard something hit the bedroom door with a loud squeal. "For god sakes," John murmured, hurriedly closing the door behind them.

"Maybe we should warn Mrs. Hudson…" Victor murmured.

"No need, she's gone to Florida to visit family for a week," John replied, quickly hailing a cab.

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Tabitha squealed in surprised as Sherlock pushed her against the bedroom door. He caught her lips in a hot kiss as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She moaned against his mouth as their tongues moved together, and raised a leg over his hip to press herself against him. His hands slid down to the side of her hips, and then he froze. He pulled away, looking down at her with a concerned expression.

"What?" Tabitha asked, breathing heavily with her hands gripping his shoulders. Her body was in overdrive – she was already wet, her breasts her aching, and if Sherlock didn't get naked soon she'd do it herself. The dark-green shirt was now her favorite, she decided. It worked well with his eyes and dark curly hair, which was a mess from her hands at the moment.

"I shouldn't have done that…"

"Shut up and get naked," Tabitha interrupted, pulling him by the back of his head to kiss him again. Their tongues dueled, and their hands worked over his buttons. She bit his lip with a growl as the shirt finally came undone. She hummed in delight as they pulled away to push it over his shoulders. His lips brushed against her cheek and jaw as her hands slid down his bare chest to his trousers button.

"We need to be more careful now with you being pregnant," Sherlock commented between heavy breathes and kisses on her neck. Tabitha tugged impatiently at the button, finally getting it to come undone.

"That's no fun," she replied with a chuckle as she unzipped him and pushed her hand inside. He bit her neck with a groan as she cupped him in her hand. He pressed against her hand, and quickly pushed her shirt over her head, then throwing it across the room. They both panted as he moved his hands to hold her breasts, and she moved her hand up and down his length.

"They've changed," Sherlock murmured, running a thumb over her nipples. Tabitha moaned and thrust her breasts more into his hands. He bent down, making Tabitha slid her hand out of his trousers. She held onto his hips as his tongue softly touched one of the tips. "They're darker."

"Oh!" she cried as he fully licked it.

"More sensitive, as well," he murmured, moving to the other one. Suddenly, he pulled back. She glared up at him panting.

"Seriously, Sherlock, stop it!"

"Get into bed," Sherlock chuckled. Tabitha felt better at his words, and made a show of swaying her hips as she crawled into the bed. She made a show of crawling to the middle, and laying down slightly on her side. Sherlock's hungry eyes followed her as he moved onto the bed beside her. They faced each other, and propping their heads up with their hands and elbows. Sherlock followed his hand with his eyes as he moved over the curve of her waist and hips to stop on her thigh. He pushed her pajama pants down and she kicked them away.

Tabitha growled and pushed his shoulder with her hand, moved to straddle him. Sherlock's held her hips tightly as she pulled down his trousers just enough to let his erection bob out. She wrapped her hands around him, and his hips lifted as he groaned. She glanced at his face, and saw his eyes closed and his head tilted back.

She scooted down and lightly blew on the tip. She looked up into Sherlock's now opened eyes as she took the head of his manhood into her mouth. His eyes watched her hungrily, his breathing more of a pant. She closed her eyes and took him fully inside her mouth, enjoying the taste of him more than ever before. Maybe it was the hormones, or maybe it was because their relationship was becoming more emotional, but all she wanted to do was ride him until he begged her for more. She worked him with her hands and mouth until he pulled at her hair. She pulled away, and straddled him once again.

"Tabitha –"

"Shut up," she panted with a grin. She lifted herself over him and pressed down. She gasped and tilted her head back, her eyes shut, as she began to move without hesitation. She was slick and ready and at the edge. She looked down at Sherlock as she rode his cock.

"You're beautiful," he panted, lifting his hips to meet her movements. They moved together, Tabitha leaned a bit forward and putting her hands on his chest for leverage. He moved his hands around to hold her behind as he lifted up inside her faster.

"Sherlock!" Tabitha moaned, grinding against him, wanting to climax. She bent down and capture his lips in her teeth as he thrust into her, hard and fast.

"Say my name again," he panted, pushing her back to a sitting position as they moved.

"Sherlock," she groaned in a low voice, gasping. She was almost there! Sherlock's fingers pinched her nipples, making her cry out, and making him growl in satisfaction. His hands slide down to hold her waist, on either side of her bump, with his thumbs rubbing it affectionately.

"Come for me, darling," he ordered in a hoarse voice, thrusting hard.

"Oh!" she cried, gripping his hands on her waist as she tilted her head back. She whimpered as she shuddered over him, riding out her climax. He joined her with a grunt, thrusting slowly to finish himself. After moment, she slumped on top of him, and he held her, his arms around her waist.

"Pregnancy suits you."

Tabitha lifted up a bit.

"It turns you on to see me pregnant."

Sherlock cleared his throat as he gently pushed Tabitha off of him. She saw his pink cheeks as they situation themselves on the bed to face each other and their hands under their heads. She grinned at him and kissed his nose. He looked a bit taken aback by the simple affection, but sent her a smile back. She raised an eyebrow and took poked his shoulder with a finger.

"It is arousing to see you swell with child, yes," he admitted systematically. He gave a nonchalant shrug. "It is actually very common among men."

Tabitha felt the words like a sting – he was saying it like he was speaking about research or an experiment. She frowned and turned so her back was to him. Sherlock seemed to notice, because he tentatively touched her shoulder. She sighed and shrugged it off.

"Just hold me, I'm exhausted. We'll talk tomorrow." Sherlock didn't say anything as he did just that.

**PLEASE REVIEW**


	24. Green & Yellow

**This is the second to last chapter. Don't worry, there will be a sequel! I'm even going to write up a quick summary of THIS story so people don't have to read it to understand the second story. PLEASE REVIEW! Thanks for all the views, and to those who keep coming back!**

**I need to think of a title for the sequel...**

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**CHAPTER 24 - Green & Yellow**

It was a boy. Sherlock wasn't surprised at all, and didn't show much emotion as his friends gushed their congratulations to Tabitha. He smiled when no one was looking, though. When they were alone, the sex was passionate and sensual. Sherlock would take the time to nuzzle and murmur towards her stomach. Tabitha teased him about being sentimental, but he just smirked and commented on how it was a positively researched topic to speak and read to a child in the womb.

Moran was in custody, and would be put away for a very long time. All the allies he thought he had now wanted nothing to do with him. The thought that Jim and his friends never really wanted him made him more mad then he was before.

The months passed, and Tabitha had a relatively easy pregnancy. The usual aches, pains, and cravings were there, and Dr. Williams seemed to be extremely happy with the results each month. Molly, Mary, and Tabitha made it their job to turn John's old room into a nursery. They had painted the walls a grassy green, and painted swirls and hearts and other shapes with white paint to make it more interesting. They put in a crib, dresser, and changing table set that was dark wood.

Sherlock picked the set out himself, stating that he needed to make sure it was the best they could afford. Tabitha had cornered him after he had surprised her with the set in the bedroom, and got him to admit with an embarrassed sigh that he liked the look of the dark wood for the nursery. Mrs. Hudson made it her job to help Tabitha stock up on supplies – bottles, diapers, wipes, clothing, a car seat.

She insisted that Tabitha and Sherlock take over the title and registration of her own vehicle. Tabitha was grateful, knowing it would make it so much easier for running errands than taking a cab. Sherlock, on the other hand, fought against it, saying that there was nothing wrong with taking a cab. Tabitha ignored him, and he had pouted for a whole day over losing the argument.

John and Mary seemed to have the perfect life together, except the few times Sherlock had appeared in the middle of the night to drag him away on a case. After the third time, the women watched as their respective partners shouted and argued about the predicament. Sherlock still pouted and grumbled about not having John as much as before, but the argument was finished. Sherlock was learning how to send a text instead of bursting in the door, although John still dragged himself out of bed in the middle of the night for a case.

It annoyed Mary, but when she saw John's excited and curious look as he rushed out, she couldn't help but be proud of her boyfriend. He was a hero, helping authorities catch bad guys, and now getting paid for it.

Molly would help spend time with Tabitha and/or Mary when she had time, although Victor and she were becoming more serious. Sherlock had decided to go to him more often now that John was busy with his job at the hospital and being with Mary. His friend appreciated the fact that he didn't have to be at Sherlock's beck and call anymore, although he obviously missed it every now and then.

The Doctor visited a few times, popping into say hello. Most of the time he joined Mycroft for a briefing on any alien sightings. Sometimes he saved the world, sometimes he just consulted information. There was something off about him, everyone noticed, but he never shared his inner thoughts. He was as silly and energetic as always!

A few weeks before Tabitha's due date, Molly and Mary decided to have a baby shower. Sherlock refused to have it in their flat, so they took it over to Molly's small house. She was still living alone, although Victor had begun to hint at moving in together. Tabitha laughed and got teary-eyed at the two woman who met her at the door. The room was decorated in green and yellow streamers and balloons.

"You look marvelous!" Molly exclaimed, giving her a hug. Tabitha chuckled and looked down at her attire. She'd thrown on a cotton maternity dress that was strapless and reached her ankles. She had on a pair of black flip-flops because her feet were constantly swelling up.

"Thanks. You do, too," she replied as Mary took her turn to hug her. Molly had her hair up in a pretty pony-tail, with jeans and a filmy white shirt over a pink tank top and trainers on her feet. Mary had on a black sundress with her short hair down, and brown wedged heels.

The small get together was simple and relaxing, with healthy appetizers, some lovely cupcakes with green and yellow icing, and bouncing around name ideas. Most of the time they would try to imitate Sherlock, John, or Victor and their opinions on the name.

"I know John keeps suggesting Hamish, but that is a horrible name!" Tabitha cried, sipping at her glass of lemonade. Mary and Molly hummed their agreement as the nibbled and drank their snacks. "It makes me think of a pork dish."

That comment made Molly choke on her lemonade with laughter. Mary had to smack her on the back, and the women fell into giggles again. They continued to throw out names, but stopped when there was a knock on the door.

"Were you expecting anyone else?'

"Not at all," Molly said with her brows furrowed. The other two women stayed seated on the couch while Molly opened the door.

"I am so sorry I'm late!"

Tabitha and the other woman stared wide-eyed at the Doctor. He was decked out in his usual outfit, but his bowtie was yellow and green stripped, and his braces matched. He had a huge green and yellow wrapped box in his arms, which made it hard to see his face, unless he peaked around it, like he was doing now. Molly stepped aside and let him in. Tabitha and Mary shrugged and chuckled, a bit surprised, and eyed the gift.

"You dressed for the occasion!" Mary pointed out, leading him to the kitchen table to set the gift down. He spun around with flair and spread his arms out.

"Of course! It's a baby Holmes!"

"Of course!" Tabitha repeated with a smile. "What's in the box?"

"Open it and find out. Clara helped me pick out the gift!"

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Sherlock and John were in the lab above the morgue with Victor when Lestrade walked through the door, his hair wet from the light shower of rain outside. Sherlock looked up from the microscope he was using, and instantly deduced what was happening. Victor and John were talking about something or other across the table from him.

"Body found. Male. 56. Stabbed through the heart. The murderer carved letters all over his body." Lestrade looked tired. The case had just came in, and he was already wanting to give up with confusion. "The body is a few hours old. It happened in broad daylight and no one saw a thing."

"This one sounds interesting," Sherlock said with a smirk as he pulled his coat off the table. He slipped it over his suit jacket and white button-up shirt, motioning for John to follow him. John tugged his green coat jacket over his plaid shirt.

"Victor, be ready for the body when it comes in."

"What? I'm not a –"

"Molly isn't here, so I need you." Sherlock left without looking back. John shrugged apologetically and rushed after him. Lestrade sighed and ran a hand over his face.

"Welcome to the team," he replied grimly as he walked out the door himself.

"Right," Victor murmured, running a hand through his thick, buzzed hair. He through his lab coat over his dark blue t-shirt and faded jeans. At 27, he was actually younger than Molly by a few years, but that never seemed an issue with her. He smiled as he made his way to the morgue to prep for the body. They had been dating for the last six months, and he was going to the jewelers next week to pick up a ring.

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"There doesn't seem to be any pattern," John murmured as he crouched down besides Sherlock. They were under a bridge along the shore of the river, with the man nakedly laying on his stomach, face deep in the sand.

"There has to be one," Sherlock replied, his attention completely focused on the letters and numbers spread over the body. Lestrade watched over them while the rest of his men stayed back. Anderson was at the front of the group, watching with his arms over his chest. The last few months there had been a quiet truce between Sherlock and him – mostly because Anderson's relationship with Donovan had become public and straight-laced. Both of them owed Tabitha for giving them the push they needed to make that step.

"The murderer watched him as he died from the stabbing in his heart, then made the effort to carve this letters and numbers onto his body."

"Obviously," Sherlock replied for the sake of acknowledgment. John sent him a glare, then stood up straight. Sherlock followed suit, sticking his hands in his coat jacket as he strolled around the body and John.

"And this means…?" John asked, waiting for Sherlock to explain.

"It's a message. She carved consonants out of order and odd numbers up to 91. Every seventh carving is a prime number out of order." Sherlock pointed it out to John, who raised his eyebrow.

"Wait, how do you know it's a woman?"

"What do you see, John?"

"We've been over this, just tell me."

"John!"

"Fine!" John growled, squinting his eyes to focus on the body. He studied what he could see for a few moments, and then hummed in realization. "There is glitter in most of the carvings. Damn, I should have seen that. That doesn't mean the murderer was a woman!"

"You should have, and no, technically it doesn't, but the statistics of it being a woman is a bit higher. I bet there is female DNA in some of his defensive wounds."

"So, this is for revenge?"

"Most likely," Sherlock answered with a twinge of disappointment. "This isn't nearly as interesting as I thought." John rolled his eyes as they wondered over to Lestrade to give them their findings. "I suspect there may be evidence of adultery with this one," Sherlock added. "Let's look into the mistress."

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Victor was leaning against the desk at the end of the morgue when John and Sherlock stepped in. He immediately straightened and let out a greeting. John replied, but Sherlock went straight to their latest victim laying on the slab.

"I've gotten samples of the glitter, they are running now, and there was some DNA evidence of sexual intercourse around the time of death." John furrowed his brows at that.

"Let me know when you're done processing the body." Sherlock spun on his heel to walk toward the door. John followed him. As they walked down the corridor to get to the street, Sherlock saw John out of the corner of his eye about to say something. "What is it?"

"You're going to be a father in a few weeks."

"Yes. And?" John put out a hand to stop his friend, and they turned to face one another. Sherlock watched John's face, interested in what he had to say. John sighed in frustration and put his hands in his pockets.

"I won't be around to help you with this."

"What do you mean? Tabitha and I are all prepared. We have everything that we need to take care of a newborn." Sherlock made a move to continue walking, but John caught his arm.

"That isn't what I meant, and you know it. I'm one of the few people who know for a _fact_ that you feel things, that you feel things specific to only Tabitha. It's been nine months, and you're still trying to hide whatever sentiment pops up." Sherlock's jaw clenched, but he stood still as he waited for John to continue. John's tone quieted a bit. "You can't do that with a child. A child thrives and learns from the people they are around. You need to show the baby more than just facts and statistics."

John and Sherlock stared at one another for a long moment. John expected Sherlock to stomp off, ignoring the conversation all together, but was pleasantly surprised when his friend's face slipped away from it's cool exterior to a look of frustration and confusion.

"I know that, John," he replied with an unsatisfied voice. "Logically, I understand that. I just don't understand_ how_ to do it! With you, and Tabitha for that matter, I don't have to watch what I say, or think about other people. It just comes naturally. What if it doesn't come naturally for my child?" Sherlock looked away from John into the distance, a thoughtful and irritated look on his face.

John had to replay the words that Sherlock had just thrown at him. His friend, the king of ignoring everything but himself was worried about how to be emotional with his son. It took a while for John to think of something to say.

"How do you know it won't?"

"Seriously, John, have you_ seen_ me with children?"

"Well, no. The last time was really three years ago when the little girl screamed at you."

"Exactly."

"I'm not sure what that has to do with you being emotional with your son."

Sherlock gulped at the word John had just said.

"What if he doesn't like me?" It was let out in a quiet whispered. John was about to say something sympathetic, but Sherlock turned at that moment and began pounding the pavement furiously to the edge of the sidewalk. He called a cab, and John knew this conversation was finished for now.


	25. Here He Comes!

_Last chapter! At the end of this, I need you guys to vote on which plot to use for the sequel. I've already started on it, but I haven't gotten to the main plot yet, so there is still time to figure it out_.**_ I will want at least 5 reviews/votes before I put up the sequel. _**

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**CHAPTER 25 - Here He Comes!**

Tabitha had gotten home from Molly's place an hour before Sherlock. In the time before her future husband returned, she had sat up the Doctor's gift above the baby's crib. She stood back, placing her hands on her bulging stomach, and grinned tiredly at her work. It was a mobile made up of the Gallifreyan language, the Doctor explained. The circular artwork were words, apparently. They were intricate, and each of the words had their pieces cut apart so it swirled and made a light tinkling sound when they touched.

Air, Earth, Fire, Water, and Time were placed in a circle, while Love was a bit smaller in the middle. It was beautiful, and Tabitha was honored that the Doctor shared a bit of his world with her. She felt the baby kick, and she let out a sound of surprise.

"You like those sounds? Me too, very relaxing!" she murmured, rubbing her back as she rubbed her neck with her other hand. She walked to the living room, knowing she was waddling but only caring about putting her feet up. She huffed as she sat on the couch and put her feet up on the coffee table in front of her. She was just smoothing out her dress when John and Sherlock walked in. She smiled at them.

"What kind of body was it this time?"

"Are we allowed to speak about cases and such when the baby is around?"

Tabitha sent John a confused look, but he just raised an eyebrow, sent a quick grin her way, and went down the hall to use the bathroom. Tabitha turned her attention back to Sherlock, who had taken off his coat and was staring out the window at London in the summer.

"Don't you get hot wearing that coat around?"

"Sometimes. I need to know the answer."

"Sherlock, what's wrong?" Tabitha had a feeling it wasn't just about what he was allowed to speak about around the child. Sherlock's stared for a moment longer, then turned. He moved to the couch to sit beside her, sitting so he was facing her. He looked down at her pregnant belly and placed a hand on it, lightly petting it as he gazed. "Sherlock, you have to tell me. We agreed to talk about these things, remember? You promised."

Right after the deal with Moran, Tabitha had convinced Sherlock to speak about any emotional thoughts, among other things, that dealt with their relationship or their child. He had tried to convince her that there was no need, he could deal with them, but she had put her foot down. They had compromised by agreeing to speak about it only in private. There was no need for anyone else to know that Sherlock wasn't as perfect as he let on.

"John is here," he replied, rubbing his thumb over the light cloth of the dress over her stomach. Tabitha sighed, defeated for the time being, and placed her hand over his. John wondered in at that time, and Sherlock's head snapped up to him. "Goodbye, John."

"Sherlock, really? You don't have to go."

"Ah, I get it. He doesn't want to show an ounce of weakness, so he needs me to leave."

"I've taught you a few observation skills. Good. Now go."

"Have a good afternoon," John replied with a laugh as he left.

"That was rude, Sherlock," Tabitha scolded with a glare. Sherlock sniffed at her comment and stared intently at their hands joined over her stomach. "He's gone."

"I've been researching and reading the best way to raise a child."

"I know," Tabitha said slowly, wondering where this was going. "But you do realize you can't predict everything. What's good for the goose may not be good for the gander."

"What?" Sherlock asked, his eyes moving to hers.

"Nevermind. Go on!"

"I think I have a good understanding of the physical tasks that may or may not happen."

"Good to know I won't be doing it on my own."

"Are you… worried?"

"About what? The baby is healthy. So far so good!"

"No, of course not, we've taken great steps to keep you and the child healthy. I meant…"

"Meant what?" Tabitha asked, although she was catching on. It wasn't the physical side he was worried about. Financially, with Mycroft's help and Sherlock's income with consulting, they wouldn't struggle too much. He was speaking about the emotional side of things.

"Are you worried I may hurt our child?"

"Never," Tabitha said reassuring, squeezing his hand under hers. "We aren't talking about physical harm, are we?"

"No," Sherlock answered, glancing at her then back to their hands. Tabitha dipped her head to catch his eyes. He pulled back.

"Mycroft and I… we are a lot alike. All the Holmes's are, really. Intelligent and sarcastic, among other things." Sherlock stopped to think about what he was going to say next. How could he explain to Tabitha that he felt like he'd be a horrible parent? The best way was to just speak the words, he supposed. "I am not a very good role model."

"Not at all, but no one's perfect." Sherlock was honestly surprised by her answer to his confession. It must have showed on his face, because Tabitha gave a hearty laugh and reached up to wrap her arms around his neck. He held her close, closing his eyes to appreciate her shampoo scent. She pulled back just enough to look at his face. "No, you aren't the best role matter when it comes to emotional things, but that's why I'm here. You are a great role model in other senses, though."

"How so?" he asked, curious.

"Intelligence. You are going to teach him the importance of intelligence and how to use it. Ambitious. You are going to show him that it's always a good thing to do _more_. Violin! I definitely can't teach him that."

Sherlock smiled at her, feeling the panic that was inside slowly fading away. He kissed her softly on the lips.

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Tabitha groaned and tried to control her breathing as John steered the car quickly towards the hospital. She gripped the seat as another contraction hit her hard. She grunted with the effort not to let out screams and curses. She clasped the bag of personal items next to her in a death grip.

"John!"

"We're almost there!"

"Sherlock!"

"I texted him!"

"If he isn't there when I get there, I'm going to kill him!"

"I know!"

The contractions were 10 minutes apart, and getting closer. In her mind, it was taking so much longer then in reality to get to the hospital. Tabitha huffed in relief as the contraction subsided. Her water had broken half an hour before. John mumbled to her as he parked the car and helped her out. He grabbed the bag that had been ready for the last week or so and guided her into the emergency area.

"A woman is in labor!" John yelled. He chuckled at the face of Mary and a fellow nurse he had worked with plenty of times before roll in quickly with a wheelchair. John gave the nurse the facts as Tabitha held Mary's hand. She groaned as she felt another contraction began to start.

"Wow, five minutes now! That little boy is coming fast!"

"I thought the first time was supposed to take forever!" Tabitha cried, then grit her teeth. She shut her eyes tightly.

"Not always, sweetheart," Mary said soothingly.

"Where is Sherlock?" Tabitha screeched as they rushed her to a hospital room to prep her for the delivery.

"He's on his way!" John replied, having to yell over another groan.

"If he shows one ounce of indifference today, I will sock him. _Hard_."

"I can't wait to see that!" Mary laughed.

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Sherlock couldn't sit still as he rode with Lestrade in the police car, the sirens blaring. Lestrade looked more panicked than he did, though Sherlock kept having to wring his hands and run his hands through his hair.

"Sherlock, you haven't said anything. Aren't you excited?"

"It's a natural occurance."

"If you don't show a little emotion, Tabitha is going to knock you out!"

At that thought, Sherlock felt his chest tighten with panic. All the sentiment that he had been forcing back fell on him like a splash of water. His pulse raced, his breathing increased, and he felt nauseated. His mouth became dry, and he swallowed loudly. He looked at his phone, hand trembling, memorizing the date he knew would be in his mind for the rest of his life.

Friday, June 12, 2015 – 1:45pm

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**CHOICES:**

_**Plot 1**_- Tabitha and Sherlock get to visit T.J.'s grave, with their baby (a few months after he is born), but on the way back, the TARDIS malfunctions and is thrown into another dimension, where Sam and Dean Winchester are fighting a baby-eating demon. The Doctor is trapped somewhere else, so it's up to Sam and Dean to send them back and protect their child. Sexy times between Tabitha and Sherlock. I don't know if I'll add anyone else to the mix.

_**Plot**__**2**_ - Tabitha and Sherlock visit T.J.s grave, (with their child, of course) but the TARDIS malfunctions, causing them to be stuck in Tabitha's universe for a while. Sherlock gets mistaken for the actor who plays him on the television show, who in turn wants to return to the Sherlock world for a visit. Tabitha and Sherlock and Benedict may have some sexy times cause OMG THINK ABOUT IT.

**OR**

I can do plot 1 as the sequel and plot 2 as the third in the series... xD SO SEND ME YOUR THOUGHTS


	26. Author's Note

Author's note! For those of you who haven't started the sequel...

**BEYOND THE LITERATURE** - go find it for continued Sherlock tantrums! One of my favorite scenes is of Sherlock during the birth of his child. Let's just say he gets what he deserves. Expect super sexy threesome fun!


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